


Chaotic Order

by Mintlumos



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Complete, F/M, Friendship, I can never think of tags, Junkertown (Overwatch), Oasis (Overwatch), Overwatch Recall, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Rescue Missions, Scrapyard, Self-Sacrifice, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28911681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mintlumos/pseuds/Mintlumos
Summary: Symmetra joined Overwatch two months ago and everything was going great until she got two new workstation mates, a pair of Junkers. Now to add to the insult, Winston is sending the three of them on a rescue mission to Australia.
Relationships: Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes/Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani
Comments: 14
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

The moment Symmetra first laid eyes on him was an overwhelming one. Not because of the magic of the moment, but because her workshop was in flames, literal flames.  
“You must be my workshop mate! G’day! No worries, I’ll have these out in a jiff, standard operating, you know how it goes.” The strange man addressed her cheerfully while stomping on a fire half his size. Symmetra didn’t bother answering, she fainted instead. 

“I want him gone.”   
Two hours later the Indian was standing in Winston’s room with crossed arms. She was managing to ignore the singed edge of her dress, but only barely, she could feel she was close to another meltdown. “He’s a hazard to health, I cannot work in the same space.”  
The large gorilla pushed the glasses up his nose and looked over the screen he was scrolling through. “Symmetra we aren’t-.”   
“Impossible to work with.” She restated.  
“This is not the height of our organization, we do not have the space, the funds, the manpower to do as we please, we instead have to make do.” Winson said in a measured voice.   
Symmetra looked out the office window to the main hanger below. The Overwatch Gibraltar base was not a huge one and it looked even larger by the few inhabitants that walked around.   
“Torbjorn is working on getting power to the west stations but for now, they are unuseable.”  
“He gets his own space.” Symmetra tried to sound mature but she knew deep down it was a whine.  
“He also has the largest projects.” Winston said firmly. “His station was already set up for him, it would take extra work to move the work stations around. No.” He held up a hand as she opened her mouth. “I’m sorry, but you will have to work out sharing the space with….” Winston rubbed one eyebrow. “Junkrat.”  
Symmetra‘s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. “He’s called what?!”  
“He’s Australian. You know they’re all metal and rubber and gunpowder down there, and the aliases they have reflect it.” Winston flapped a hand airily as he returned to his work computer. Symmetra knew a dismissal when she saw one. With her lips thin and angry, she stalked out of the office.  
It took another hour and a meditation session for Symmetra to gather herself enough to walk back into the workshop. The fire was out but the scorch marks on the wall were prominent. She pointitly didn’t look at the human across the room as she strode to her work station, the click of her heels echoing.  
The human sitting at her station though, was a bit harder not to look at. While she had never thought of herself as small at 5 foot 7, she suddenly had the flash of a flower staring up at an oak tree. The man was huge, easily 350 lbs on his light days, tall enough he probably didn’t fit through most doors, and he was sitting on her hard light stool. Symmetra took a half second to admire the hardiness of her work before she switched over to outrage. The man didn’t acknowledge her presence, she wasn’t even sure he noticed her at all, a huge gas mask covered his whole face,and that mask seemed to be engrossed in a book, a paper book of all things. Disturbingly enough, the mask was the least worrying of his attire. Scrolling through the long list of things she didn’t like about his looks and clothing choices, she settled on the large deadly looking hook and chain on his hip as her least favorite.   
She cleared her throat. Very slowly the head looked up until she assumed he was looking at her. “You’re in my seat.” She said shortly, counting to ten to quell the snapper things she wished to say about his looks, his odor, his choice of book and his proximity to her tools. They stared at each other for a few beats before there was a yell from across the room. “Oi! Roadie! Give the lady her seat, be polite!” The massive man stood up, easily looming over Symmetra who swallowed slightly. Without any words he stumped over to Junkrat and leaned against the wall. “Whaddaya thinking, riling up our work buddy like that?” Junkrat chastised his companion. He was met with silence, strangely though Junkrat continued his side of the conversation. “Yeah I know, I’ll find another chair….. Yes, yes, one that can hold you….. Well I don’t care how nice her stool is, she doesn’t like you sitting on it. We’re suppose ta be respectabable now.”  
Symmetra rubbed her temple, his voice was one level away from unbearably screechy and high, she hated it, she hated him, she hated the smell of gunpowder that permeated the air she breathed. She hated being here! No, no, that wasn’t true. She looked down at the holographic desktop on her bench. There was a picture of herself standing next to an omnic monk robed in yellow. She had started her journey with him, finding a new perspective, a new purpose. It was because of her job to go fix the statue that her boss had pulled her aside two months ago now. “Look, you’re one of the best architects I’ve ever seen, or worked with but.” He glanced over her shoulder and then took her hands into his. “You’ve got too much of a heart for this place, you need to find somewhere that can use your talents and your heart for good, not just profit.” He had given her a case with her equipment. “I hear that Overwatch is reforming somewhere. They might be able to use your skill.”  
And just like that, she had found them and had been welcomed with open arms. She had even found a former student of Zenyatta, the omnic monk. She had really started to like it here. It gave her space and routine and a purpose, and now it had given her a workmate that smelled as bad as he looked.   
She glanced over her shoulder at the other side of the room. The smaller man had his head bent over his work, the larger one was looking right at her. Symmetra started slightly and whipped back around. There was something very unnerving about the silent giant with his metal hook. She bit her lower lip and frowned at her table, maybe she could work in the unpowered rooms in the west wing. There was a popping explosion and a shout from Junkrat behind her. Symmetra closed her eyes and counted slowly to ten, maybe she should have gone to Oasis.


	2. 2

“I grew up on the streets of India, never knowing where my next meal would come from. I have completed the studies to become a master architect in record time. I have completed complicated projects under threat of death.” Symmetra let her forehead rest on the lunch table. “I have never been so stressed in my life as this week.”  
Genji chuckle had a metallic edge to it, it reminded Symmetra of Zenyatta. “Still not getting along with the new recruits?”  
“Everything smells burnt.” She lifted her head and stirred her tea. “Yesterday he had the gall to ask me if the cut his back looked infected!”  
“Was it?”  
“How should I know! He looks like an infection on humanity’s back!” She harrumphed. “Why are they even here? They don’t exactly look the hero types. Aren’t they the ones who went around the world on a heist?!”  
Genji tapped his gloved fingers on the table thoughtfully. “ I am not sure. I do know that Winston and Lena were the ones to vouch for them when they showed up at our doors asking to work for us.”  
Symmetra almost spit out her tea. “What?”  
Genji poured more hot water into his tea. “Apparently they were very helpful with stopping the Numbani museum heist by Talon.”   
“Really?” She said unconvinced.   
“That’s what I’m told.”  
Symmetra put down her tea spoon after wiping it dry and made sure it was perfectly parallel. “I still don’t like them.”  
Genji shrugged. “We don’t have to get along with everyone.” His eyes crinkled indicating a smile. “Just try not to kill him.”

Symmetra didn’t really think she was in danger of ignoring Genji’s advice, but her breaking point came sooner than expected. She had been sharing space with the Aussie’s for a week and half. Headphones helped block out the prattle and lesser explosions but she could feel her temper rising with every vibration and muffled boom from across the room. This morning was delicate work. She breathed out and slowly put the components together under her microscope. She had waited for a particularly quiet day for this part, if she got it wrong it would take days to recover, if she got it right, she would never have to deal with core misalignment again.   
“Fire in the hole!” She heard the warning yell second before an explosion knocked her off her chair. She picked herself up with a groan holding one hand to her head as she slowly turned around. There was a crater in the floor halfway between the two stations. Junkrat was balancing on one leg in the frozen motion of trying to catch something in the air and a painted smile on his face. “Oops, sorry about that.”   
Symmetra felt the final thread holding her sanity in place snap. “That. Is. It!” She sprang to her feet and grabbed the hardlight gun off her table. “I cannot do this anymore!” She took four angry steps towards him. “You have to leave!”  
Junkrat put a grimy hand to his chest and tilted his head. “I?”  
“Yes you! I don’t know what you are playing at, but you don’t belong here!” She took three more angry steps towards him. “I read about you, you’re the thieves who ran around the world on a heist. I don’t know what they were thinking letting criminals like you in here! All I know is that you and I cannot be in the same place! And between my resume and your criminal record I think I know who they would choose!”  
The man’s golden eyes went wide and then narrowed into slits. “Oh! reaaaaally now? Because between my demolition expertises and your….” he wiggles his fingers in her face. “Tapestry making over there, I think I know what they would choose!”   
Symmetra tightened a hand on her gun, flicking the on switch. “Let’s see what you think about my threads when one makes a hole clear through your throat!”  
“Oooooooh!” Junkrat leaned in closer until his pointed nose was almost touching hers. He lowered his voice to a low whisper. “The Shela’s got teeth!” He bares his own pointed teeth and Symmetra saw him toss a grenade up and down in her peripheral vision. “Let’s see how hard she bites.” He jumped back and raised his throwing arm. Symmetra raises her own gun and aimed for his stupid face.  
“Comm’ere!” Suddenly all the breath was forced from her lungs as there was a flash of silver and a huge hook snagged her around the waist. She was dragged across the room and found a huge hand wrapped around her throat in the blink of an eye. There was a loud metal scrape and Junkrat found himself looking down Roadhog scrap gun barrel. “Oi! Roadie!”  
“Shut up!” His voice was deeper than possible and sounded like he had a kilo of gravel in his throat. He turned his mask to Symmetra. He wasn’t choking her but he made it very clear she had no power in this situation at all. “Push off.”  
“Is there a problem here?” A new voice called from the door. All three turned and saw Angela Ziegler in their door with a clipboard in one hand and a blaster in the other.   
“No problem, Doc!” Junkrat grinned cheerily. “Just working on our projects! Roight?”   
Roadhog dropped Symmetra and Junkrat threw a lanky arm around her shoulders. “Couldn’t be happier!”  
Symmetra stiffened. “Do not touch me.”   
The arm was removed an inch.  
Angela’s eyebrows clearly didn’t believe them. She cleared her throat. “Mr. Rutledge…”   
Roadhog growled deep in his throat, Angela ignored him. “Your medication is ready in the clinic. And both you and Mr. Fawkes….” She looked over her glasses at both of them. “There have been multiple complaints. Take a shower.”  
“What?! That’s outrageous!” Junkrat raised his arms in protest, cascading cinders to the ground. “Just whooooo would do such a thing!?” He whirled on Symmetra but she had her head bent over the crater she was weaving blue threads across.  
“Multiple complaints.” Angela restated.   
Junkrat threw his head back and slumped his shoulders. “Uuuuugh.”  
Angela took it as an acquisition and left.   
Junkrat nudged Roadhog. “Pretty sure she’s talking about you, Mate. Ya smell to high heaven.”  
“Shut up.”

“Do they even know how hard it is for us to get wet?” Junkrat complained as he untied his single boot. The one other occupant in the shower room didn’t answer.   
“I mean, sure we’ve got some dust on us.” Junkrat poured a small pile of dirt out of his shoe. “But if I get my mechanicals wet it takes forever to dry them out and grease them up and…. Are you listening?”   
Junkrat tried to crane his neck over the dividing wall and was met with a metal hook that was hung ominously between them. He huffed. After their two years together, there was still one hard and fast rule: never look under Roadhog’s mask.   
Junkrat turned back to his own stall and wiggled his leg. He could disconnect the nerves and take them off, his head buzzed angrily at the thought. Junkrat frowned at his leg, maybe this time it would be different. Yeah yeah yeah, this time this time. He slowly reached down and disconnected the leg. Yeah yeah, she’s all right, this was good, nothing bad. He moved the leg an inch away from the stump and the world swam. No no no no no no………. the pain, the hunger, twisted bodies, rotting faces. He leaned over and threw up in the trash.   
“You tried again.” Roadhog grunted from across the wall.  
Junkrat glared in his direction as he reconnected the leg. “No! I just had some bad lunch.”  
“Right.”  
Junkrat slumped angrily in the shower. Fine, he would just spend three hours doing maintenance. He winced as the hot water hit his skin. “I hope that prissy Sheila appreciates this.”   
Only a grunt in return.   
Junk watched the brown rivlets of water trace down his thin muscles and ribs to the tile below. Showers weren’t common in the Outback, cleanliness wasn’t part of the day to day survival. He could remember his first time being submerged in water, a pool in Mexico. He had slipped as they were running away from a bank heist. He had panicked and screamed and half drowned before Roadhog yanked him out with his hook. He shuddered and rubbed his mechanical arm across his flesh arm, he wasn’t fond of water.  
Something hit him in the head. “Oi! What’s that for?!”  
“Soap.”   
Junk looked down at the white bar between his feet and stuck out his lower lip. He hated soap.

Symmetra rubbed the back of her neck as she straightened up from her table. It was as bad as she thought it would be and it would be a few days before she could get the components together again. She glanced up at the clock on the wall, it was late, but if she worked late some nights it would be finished sooner. She glanced over at the computer screen projected on the wall, open on it was a letter from Zenyatta. He had praised her change of occupation and her steps taken on the journey to find herself, balance. She frowned and tapped her fingers on the desk, maybe she had been a bit harsh earlier today.   
Her thoughts were interrupted by the hiss of the door opening. Something slumped over and damp stalked over to Junkrat’s bench. Symmetra raised one eyebrow, had he actually showered? Junkrat sat down with an overdramatic flop and threw his towel on the floor nearby. “Hope you’re happy!” He gave her an overexaggerated glare, it was almost comical enough that she had to suppress a laugh, but not quite.   
“I appreciate it.” She returned evenly.   
He spun his seat back towards the table. “Have to dry out the whole things, grease up the joints, clean out the contacts! Uggggh!”  
“What?”  
“Not all of us are waterproof, Prissy!” He called over his shoulder. “And if I don’t, it sounds like this!” He raised a hand and flexed his metal wrist which squeaked. Symmetra winced.  
“Yeah, even drives me crazy.” Junkrat lowered his hand and started pulling tools out.   
The next hour was filled with the sounds of soldering, and tinkering as both were occupied in their own projects. Symmetra felt her eyes starting to droop, she should probably turn in before she made a mistake.   
“Dammit!” There was a clang as a wrench hit the wall. Junkrat had his head in his good hand and was glaring angrily at his metal arm.   
Symmetra looked back at the letter and photo on her desk, balance, peace. She slowly stood up and brushed out her dress. She walked over to the wrench and picked it up, placing it gently on the desk, perfectly aligned with the table edge since nothing else on the desk looked remotely straight. “Do you need assistance?” She asked crisply.   
Junkrat flicked his eyes up at her. “Eh?”  
“You seem to be having trouble, I might be able to help.” She clasped her hands in front of her and waited. How did he still smell like gunpowder and cloves? Cloves?   
He leaned back, she tried not to stare at the stark white tan lines all around his body from the harness he usually wore, so untidy.   
“I suppose I might take a teeny bit of help since you’re begging me for it.” He said in a bored voice.   
She rolled her eyes and turned to go.   
“No wait!” He sat up straight and pushed a screwdriver around with a finger. “Yes.”  
“That’s better.” Symmetra pushed her hair over her shoulder. “What do you need?”  
He handed her a small gear. “Goes right in the wrist joint, can’t properly get it angled in.” He lay his metal arm out for her examination. Symmetra tapped the side of her glasses and displays and scans popped up as it ran over the arm. The system pointed out the area it needed to go in and the best way to put it in, it didn’t take long with two hands on the job. Junkrat gave a woop of glee as he flexed his wrist. “Thanks, mate!” he gave her one of his half insane grins.   
Symmetra was busy looking around his work station, she had stayed away from it before and this was the first time she got a good look at it. Most of it was distressing to look at and the rest was downright appalling, but there was something intriguing about it. Despite the designs and schematics thrown around that looked like they had been drawn up by a child and edited by a monkey, the components of his projects were well put together. In fact, she realized as her glasses fed her information, it was surprising he didn’t blow up more.   
“Whatcha starin at, Girlie?” Junkrat tried to cover his blueprints with his skinny body.   
“Oh please.” She rolled her eyes. “I do have a name, you know.”  
His eyes shifted to the door and then he leaned in with a stage whisper. “We’re not suppose ta use real names here for operatives.”  
“Ugh.” Symmetra rubbed her tired eyes, deactivating her glasses. “I meant my operative name.”  
“Oh, riiiiiight! It’s um....” His golden eyes rolled back in his head with concentration. “Mei.”  
“That’s the Chinese scientist, and that’s her real name.”  
“Tracer.”  
“That’s the British one.”  
“Winston!”  
“That’s the gorilla!”  
He thought hard with his tongue sticking out of his mouth. He snapped his fingers “Got it! Widowmaker!”  
Symmetra’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “That’s a Talon agent, you buffoon.”  
“Well, soooooorry I don’t remember!” He threw up his hands dramatically.   
“Symmetra.”  
“That’s a mouth full.”  
“So is your attitude.”  
He cackled and threw his head back. “Funny.” He wiped an eye and tilted his head towards her. “Sym?”  
She felt an eyelid tick. “I suppose it will do.” She turned and walked back to her desk, she could feel his eyes following her back. She clicked off her holographs and locked down the table and then paused. “I’m sorry for earlier.”  
“Eh?”  
“I was too harsh on you, I apologize.”  
“Eh?” He was looking at her in confusion. “You what?”   
Symmetra felt angry crawl back up her spine but faded when she studied his look. He looked honestly confused and surprised. “I apologize.”  
“Oh, right, um. Yeah.” He looked lost and confused. Symmetra figured that was the best she could hope for under the circumstances and left him there, still watching her, the gears in his head trying to figure out this new relationship. Unfortunately, more than one gear was loose and the only things filed currently under the relationship tab were competition and royalty.


	3. 3

A soft hand stroked Jamie’s cheek. “Hey, hey. It’ll be alright.” She coughed and the red stain on the pillow grew. “You just need to go visit your Uncle Dan. You remember where he lives right?”  
Jamie nodded nervously.   
“He’ll take care of you till Mum and Dad are all better.” She smiled weakly. Jamie turned to look at the unmoving man on the bed.  
“Shhh shhh.” The hand turned his face back to her. “It’s ok. He’s fine.”  
Jamie didn’t understand. She said everything was good but she was crying when she kissed his forehead. “Be a good lad, get going.”   
She mouthed something but it was lost.  
Jamie turned and ran, clutching his canteen and backpack as he fled. So much coughing around, people lay in the street, screaming. His tears streamed down his thin cheeks. It took him two harrowing hours to reach his uncle’s house. But no uncle was there. Just a limp body with half a head missing and a gun in its hand. Jamie was eight.

Something hard smacked into Junkrat’s head.  
“Shut it.” Roadhog growled.  
Junk stared around wide-eyed trying to get his bearings. His bunk, lots of gray metal, he tasted salty, fat roommate. Right, he had a nightmare. He rubbed his eyes, going through a nuclear apocalypse will do that to you. He glared over at his roommate, a few screams didn’t mean Roadie had to throw the lamp at him. Well, to be fair though, he had done similar things when Roadie had woken him up in the middle of the night with muffled groans and sobs. Junkrat lay back with his hands interlocked over his thin stomach. Going through hell did that to you. He looked over at the clock, 5:00 am. Welp, no use trying to sleep now, he hobbled out of the room rubbing the lump on his head, maybe he would find the kitchen.

Symmetra wasn’t sure what she expected after yesterday’s interaction but it wasn’t a milky glass of tea with ominously dark balls floating in it waiting at her work station. She glanced over at her workmate. His head was resting on a compression mine and his arms dangled to his knees, he was snoring. She lifted the glass with her gauntlet and sniffled it tentatively. It smelled like chai with a heavy emphasis on cloves. She raised an eyebrow and poked a ball with a pen, tapioca. He made her boba tea? With a few seconds of hesitation, she took a sip; it was good. But why would he…? The napkin the glass had been on caught her eye. In smudged, terrible handwriting was written: sorry. Symmetra looked back at the snoring Aussie, took a sip of tea and smoothed out the paper, turning it to a perfect 90 degrees and moved it up to the corner of her desk. She should take advantage of the quiet and work on the circuits.

“Well I left it right here before I went to walk and now it’s gone!”  
“What are ya on about? I didn’t touch your precious spammer.”  
“Spanner! Are you suggesting it grew feet and walked away?”  
“ Are you suggesting I’m a thief?”  
“It’s common knowledge you’re a thief!”  
A deep cough across the room interrupted their finger-prodding-chest contest. They turned to Roadhog who pointed a thumb at the tiny woman next to him.   
“Heya.” Tracer said uncertainty.  
“Yes?” Symmetra smoothed out her dress and pretended she hadn’t been fighting like a child.  
“Winston asked me to send the lot of you to his office.”  
“We will be there shortly.” Symmetra bowed her head.

“What did you complain about this time?!” Junkrat threw his hands in the air. “I took a shower and I haven’t exploded your half of the room in a week.”  
“I didn’t.” Symmetra pulled back the hair the wind had whipped in her face.   
“Really now? Feels like you complain about everything. The noise, the explosion, me stealing your spanner.”  
“I knew it was you!”  
The argument continued up to the office doors. Winston cleared his throat. “Are you two finished.”  
They both fell silent, eyeing each other.  
“I have a mission for the three of you.”  
Symmetra felt her heart leap, a mission! Her heart fell with a clunk, with them.  
“One of our agents was on the way to rejoin us when he got caught in Junkertown, the Junkerqueen is holding him there and making deals with Talon, we need you to go get him out before that happens.”  
He flicked a hologram towards Symmetra’s tablet, it filled with pictures and information. “You leave tomorrow.”  
Symmetra skimmed the brief. “this looks like a stealth operation. Wouldn’t Genji be better fit for it and not…” she shot a look at the heavy-footed, metal-clanking pair.   
“Genji is occupied with his own mission. I think your teleportation ability is ideal for a jail break. They are going along as your guide to Australia. You won’t get far without them.”   
Junkrat struck a heroic pose, Roadhog continued to show all the emotions of a large houseplant.   
“You all have strengths and weaknesses that I think can balance well and make this mission a success.” Winston looked at each of them over his glasses. “Overwatch is counting on you.”

“That’s all!” Junkrat set down the last crate into the ship. “We’re ready for take off!” He gave Symmetra a mock salute.  
Take off. Her head snapped up. That was what she was forgetting, they didn’t have a pilot! Before she could point this out, the giant pushed his way past all of them towards the pilot chair. There was an awkward moment when all three of them looked at the tiny chair and then up at Roadhog. He leaned down and gripped the chair and pulled, fully intending on ripping it up and out of his way.  
“Wait!” Symmetra ran forward. “Don’t, I can make it work.” She began to spin her blue threads, adding to the supports, the sides, the backrest. “Please don’t wreck the ship before we’ve even taken off.” She finished with a flourish. “There.”  
Roadhog inspected the new chair and gave a grunt as he sat down.   
Symmetra inwardly preened, she loved when she got to use her work for practical things and make the design seamless. She turned back towards the cargo bay and frowned. “I understand that you need your explosives nearby to sleep at night, but did you really need to bring that?” She gestured to the large motorcycle taking up a third of the floorspace.  
“What else are we suppose ta get around in?” Junkrat was sitting on the floor counting out grenades.  
“A car. One that would fit us all?”  
“Ohhhh?” He leaned back until he was facing her upside down. “And where are we suppose to find this magical car?” He snorted holding back a giggle. “The airport?” He fell over cackling. “The hotel?” He rolled around the floor holding his ribs.   
Symmetra raised an eyebrow and folded her arms, waiting.   
He finally sat up and wiped his eyes. “Naw, Sym. Ya got the wheels you come with or you steal them off of someone else out there.”  
“So you suggest we are going to fit all three of us and the agent we are rescuing in that machine?”  
Junkrat opened his mouth, furrowed his bushy eyebrows and turned to examine the motorcycle. “Well, we might need to make some modifications.”

The next two hours passed quietly. Roadhog was thumbing through his paperback, Junkrat was muttering and tinkering and Symmetra was sitting at the table rereading the mission brief for the fifth time. She enlarged the agent information. Some information was redacted or top secret, but there was plenty shared with them.   
Jesse McCree, former Overwatch and Blackwatch operative, handy with a gun and a cool head. The pictures included was an old one, it showed a cocky cowboy with a huge grin on his face. Below it was the most recent photo found of him, it was taken off a social media site and was a selfie of him on a motorbike with the caption: Thanks for the loan, Ash. He was an older cocky cowboy with a huge grin on his face.   
Symmetra scrolled through the information on Junkertown and the queen, everything she read what forgein and strange sounding. Australia sounded like a different world completely, nuclear wasteland, revolutionary soldiers, scrappers, junkers, water more precious than gold. She expanded the photos provided, it was all rust and dust, metal and rubber.   
“You’ve been taking those pills the doc gave you?”   
Symmetra looked up, Junkrat had ceased torturing two bits of metal and was looking over her shoulder at the photos.   
“Of course.” She answered slowly.  
“Yeah, good, wouldn’t want that radiation in your perfect little bones, now would we?”  
“Um.” She tried to think of a reply but nothing came to mind. Junkrat didn’t seem to be listening anyways. He lifted a long finger and flicked through the photos, a more serious expression on his face, his eyes narrowed.   
“How long has it been since you were back.” Symmetra asked.   
“Eh? Well, we left about two years ago, and went back two months ago.”  
“You went back?”  
There was a loud squeak and Roadhog turned in his seat. He and Junkrat exchanged looks.  
“Visiting family.”  
“You have family?”  
“Doesn’t everyone?” Junkrat tried to look nonchalant and succeeded in looking highly suspicious.  
Symmetra let it drop. She turned back to the brief as Junkrat wandered back to his projects. 

Ten minutes later there was a bump. Symmetra didn’t pay it mind, turbulence. The second bump was harder, the third was impossible to ignore. She stood and walked quickly up to the front.  
“What’s going on?”  
For an answer, Roadhog jammed a finger at a blinking light, fuel regulator inactive.  
“What?! How is that possible? The only way that would happen is if someone removed the pump stabilizer!”  
In sync, they both turned to look at Junkrat.  
He was trying to look as casual as possible while frantically trying to reinsert the pump stabilizer into the wall. “What?”  
Symmetra dashed over, one hand outstretched. “No! If you do that it will..”  
Before she could reach him there were sparks and smoke and the stabilizer was turned into a shorted out mess of metal and wires.  
They stood still a moment looking at the smoking mess.  
“By any chance would explosives be helpful in this instance?”  
“No!” She screamed at him. She jogged back towards Roadhog. “Put us down.” She quickly scanned the map nearby. “Close to here if you can.” She pointed to a city.  
A short, jarring flight later, they landed with a brain-rattling thud. The blow Symmetra landed on Junkrat’s jaw was equally brain-rattling.  
“What the hell were you doing?!”   
Junkrat looked appealingly at his bodyguard, but Roadhog was too busy ignoring him.   
“Well you wanted the motorcycle modified, I wanted to work on that, you know teamwork and all that.”  
“By destroying the ship?!”   
“Borrowing parts from it, how was I to know it was important?”  
Symmetra felt her brain shut down from the stupidity. She closed her eyes and imagined herself far away in a temple with an omnic statue with golden threads. She slowly breathed out and opened her eyes, looking through the windshield. It was a glorious expanse of sand. Sand as far as the eye could see, except for one place. They were only two kilometers away, most cities would have spread out from the epicenter but this one was nestled safely inside it’s walls. Outside was sand, inside was life. It was Oasis.


	4. 4

“That is the summary of our situation.” Symmetra finished the report to Winston.  
The gorilla frowned down at his desk. “I see. I assume there will be more dismantling of the ship?”  
Symmetra glared over at Junkrat. Only the tips of his blonde hair could be seen over Roadhog’s shoulder. “That is correct.”  
“I would prefer to have you take a plane from Oasis to Australia but that problem is two-fold, there are no flights to Australia and we can’t leave the Overwatch ship there. It contains too much information.”  
Symmetra scanned the list of ten options she had come up with in the last five minutes. “In that case, my suggestion is that I go to Oasis. I have my Viskar credentials still and access to the university through it. I can use their engineering wing to reconstruct the fuel stabilizer.”  
“How fast?”  
She collapsed the hologram list. “Given time for travel and reconstruction and the current time of 3pm, I could be done as soon as midnight or as late as tomorrow morning.”  
“Do it discreetly. We don’t want to tip Talon off to our movement and risk the agent moving sooner.”  
“Understood.”  
“Good luck.”

Symmetra closed her bag with a click. “I should be back by tomorrow at the latest. Guard the ship, don’t let anyone on.”  
Roadhog acknowledged her by turning a page in his book.   
“What should I do, Boss?” Junkrat asked with a salute.  
“I thought I was clear. Stay here and guard the ship.”  
“Wot? Let you go into enemy territory by yourself?” Junkrat put both hands to his chest in horror. “You need a bodyguard.” He leaned in and spoke in a stage whisper. “And between you and me, I don’t think Roadie would blend in with the population.”  
Symmetra rolled her eyes as she pressed the button for the gangplank. “This is a highly civilized city, not enemy territory.”  
“But, but you need us to..” Junkrat followed her down the ramp.  
“No.”  
“I can….”  
“No.”  
“You need…”  
“No.”  
She turned at the bottom and brushed a stray grain of sand from her sleeve. “Let me make something clear. You are here as a guide to Australia.You are a glorified map. You and your companion are not necessary until we get there.” She pointed to the ship. “Stay.” and left.  
Junkrat stalked back into the ship with furrowed eyebrows. He turned to Roadhog who was interested enough to glance up from his book. “Who does she think she is!?”  
Roadhog shook his head. “Idiot.”  
“Who? Me or her?”   
Roadhog didn’t answer, but turned the page in his book.

By the time Symmetra reached the city checkpoint, she had calmed down, focused, balanced. She felt an eye twitch. Balanced, she was balanced, she was fine! She opened her bag and pulled out her ID, her old work pass. She prayed they had not been redacted yet.   
The guard at the gate held out hand for the card, she handed it over.  
“Reason?”  
“Business.”  
“With whom?”   
“The University.” Sweat formed on her back.  
He waved her through.   
She breathed a sigh of relief inwardly and mentally thanked Sanjay for keeping her credentials quietly active.   
Oasis was beautiful, it was everything a city should be, clean, orderly, bright, functional. Symmetra stood still on a sidewalk and breathed in the clean air and smiled. Out of all the cities on Earth, this was her favorite. She walked slowly past a clothing shop showing the latest trends, apparently helmets and veils were in, exciting. The food shop next to it smelled wonderful and it took all her willpower to walk by it so by the time she arrived at a technology shop she didn’t have any willpower left to not stop and stare through the windows at the gleaming metals and screens.   
A hand plucked at her sleeve, she turned. “Yes, what is it, Junkrat?” Her stomach dropped to her toes and there was a rush of cold that spilled over her. “Junkrat?!”  
He grinned. “Yeah?”  
“What the hell?!”   
A few faces turned towards them curiously.  
He stuck out a lower lip. “I told you, we needed to be a team and all that and I didn’t want to wait in the car and….”  
The rest of his excuses were tuned out by Symmetra as she caught sight of the news bulletin that flashed on the screen behind him. It showed a blurry security clip of a blonde man rocketing over the city wall, almost as if he was propelled by explosives. “Warning, there is an illegal intruder in the city, contact the officials if you see him.”  
Symmetra froze up.  
“And you would not believe what I had to do to get into this junkheap.”  
Symmetra snapped out of her trance. “Get out of the street, you utter and complete idiot!” She hissed, grabbing him by the elbow.   
“Wot?”  
She pointed a furious finger behind her at the screen and his face fell an inch. “Oh.”   
She dragged him to a nearby alley and threw him against the wall, of course he was bigger than she was so realistically he only skidded an inch but in her furious daydream he hit the wall with a smack.  
“What have you done!?”  
He rubbed the back of his neck with a hand. “Well, I think it’s kinda obvious what…”  
She held up a hand. “Let us discuss your failures. You have compromised this mission, twice! Why can’t you just follow orders?!”  
“Well, excuse me if we’re not all perfect little drones!” He waves his hands in the air sarcastically. “I was just looking out for your wellbeing.”  
“You were bored!”  
“That too.”  
He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the alley wall, a more serious expression on his face. “Ye can’t just drag some blokes around the world and say they don’t matter to the mission.”  
Symmetra couldn’t believe her ears. “You followed me because I hurt your feelings?!”  
“No!” His ears turned slightly pink. “I just….”  
Symmetra put a hand to her throbbing head. “Forget it, we just have to move forward with your abysmal mistakes.”  
Junkrat crossed his arms and sulked.   
“First off, we need to get you disguised. There was a clothes shop close by.” She put her nose close to his. “Stay. Here. Or. Die.”  
He rolled his eyes and sulked harder as she walked briskly out of the alley.   
The clothes shopping was done hurriedly with a few guesses about sizes, but soon enough she was back in the alley, which she was relieved to see was still occupied by a moody Aussie.   
“Put these on.” She handed him some bags.   
“What even is this?” He pulled out a silver helmet.  
“Some people call it fashion.”  
“Yeah, and others a bucket.”  
“Just put it on, it will cover half your face.”  
She was halfway through unzipping her own dress and stepping out when she noticed he hadn’t moved and was staring at her. “Do you mind?” She said so coldly she could feel the ice dripping through her teeth.   
“Oh, um.” He at least had the decency to turn a darker shade and turn his back. The decency ended there as he dropped his pants immediately and started to change while she was still facing him. Somehow she wasn’t surprised he didn’t wear underwear. She closed her eyes and groaned, that was going to take a long time to forget. 

“Now then.” Symmetra cleared her throat as she packed away their clothes and straightened her veil. “We are going to walk calmly to the university, blend in.” She examined him critically. Even with the Oasis outfit on, he still looked too...him. “Stand up straight.”  
He grumbled as he straightened his shoulders. Symmetra had a hard time not dropping her jaw as he suddenly towered above her.   
“How tall are you?!”  
“Dunno.”  
“I definitely didn’t get the right size for you.” She said, biting back a smile. Sure enough, he had quite a bit of ankle and peg leg showing. “We should probably disguise your prosthetic.” She started to pull blue threads out of her gauntlet.   
“Hang about!” He hugged his peg leg to himself. “No touchy.”  
She sighed. “They are currently looking for a skinny, blonde, peg-legged man, we need to make you as far away from him as possible.” She knelt down in front of him coiling and shaping the hardlight in front of her. “It won’t interfere with your mechanics, it will only be a shell around it.”  
He didn’t look completely convinced but he lowered his leg towards her. She silently worked as she spun white and gold and silver panels around the metal, joints fabricated out of thin air connected smoothly together.   
“How do you do that?” Junkrat asked after some minutes.   
She looked up with surprise. “You mean my ‘tapestry making’.”   
“Yeah that.”  
She looked back down. “My visor interfaces with my gauntlet, I can visualise what I want and with some hand motions and finger flicks bring it to life.”  
“Just like that?”  
“No, it’s much more complicated.” She finished off the ankle. “But that’s the surface level of it.”  
“So why doesn’t everyone have your magic-y fingers?”  
“Because to use it you have to go through years of schooling and training and have an innate sense for it.” She stood up. “Also it is expensive.”  
He tested out the foot. “I suppose it will do.” He crossed his arms. “But I’m not happy about it.”  
“I can live with that. Shall we?” She gathered up her things, and stepped boldly from the alley.   
Their walk to the university wasn’t terribly long, Symmetra only had to remind him four times not to slouch. She glanced at the time, it was later than her schedule, even her late schedule, that did not sit well with her stomach. The only thing that calmed her inner turmoil was the sweeping arches of the entrances and peaceful curves of the sidewalks of the university. She cleared her throat as they came up to the entrance security guard.   
“Hello. I am a member of Viskar Industries with permission to use the University facilities.”  
The guard scanned her ID, it flashed red. “I’m sorry, the university is on lock down today.”  
“Why?” Symmetra felt her hands and feet turn to ice, her schedule, her plan.  
“There was an intruder in the city today. The university has some very sensitive and promising projects and we want to make sure that at least for today it is protected. Tomorrow you should be able to get in.”  
“You put the whole thing on lock down when someone breaks into the city?” Junkrat interjected.  
Symmetra could have killed him right there, he was clearly impressed with himself.   
“The city doesn’t get broken into easily, so it’s a precaution.” He handed the card back. “I will see you tomorrow then.” He briefly glanced at the card. “Miss Vaswani.”  
Junkrat grinned a huge grin and turned towards her. “Vaswani?”  
She grabbed his elbow harder than necessary. “Thank you, yes, tomorrow.” She tried to ride the line between running away as fast as possible and not looking suspicious. “Are you incapable of being subtle?!” She hissed quietly when they were far enough away.  
“Probably.”  
She sighed and her shoulders drooped, at least he was honest. They stopped on a busy sidewalk, somewhere they could blend in more easily. She needed to think, figure out the fastest way out of the city without getting attention. She spun a half- formed hardlight disc in her palm, her thinking tool. She stood there for about five minutes, thinking, before she noticed her companion was visibly agitated.   
“What is wrong with you?” She kindly asked.   
He was twitching like an addicted on his first day clean. “It’s too loud.”  
She looked around in confusion, for a bustling metropolis, it was rather calm. He was trying to get into his pockets, but the ones on his new outfit were empty.  
“I need something. It’s too loud, brain’s too loud, can’t stop, can’t stop!”  
Symmetra put a hand on his shoulder and looked around worriedly. Some people were starting to take notice as he raised his voice. “Stay calm, here.” She tried to hand him the disc to fiddle with but he smacked it out of her hand. “Too late!” His face contorted in pain and frustration. “Too loud, too loud, can’t stop, can’t stop!” His voice raised more.  
Symmetra looked around desperately and her eyes fell on the perfect solution. “Come on.” She dragged him over to a nearby doorway that had neon signs and promised enough noise to drown out any thoughts.

She scanned her credits quickly at the door and pulled Junkrat into the dance club. As soon as they were through the second doors the bass rattled her teeth and the music deafened anything other than its own voice. She finally stopped when they were in a corner booth where she dropped the trembling Aussie. A quick scan showed that most of the room was too busy with their own dancing and drinking to notice two more people in the room.   
She sat down across from him, his teeth were gritted together, his fingers white against his helmet, he wasn’t doing well. She bounced her knee up and down in agitation, trying to think about what helped her when she had a ‘fit’. She glanced at the dance floor and looked up to the ceiling in distress, she couldn’t believe she was about to do this.   
“Hey, come on.” She said (the sound didn’t even reach her own ears) as she reached over and took one of his hands in hers and gently pulled him towards the dancers. He didn’t really resist but he moved woodenly. They were swallowed in the sea of moving bodies, everyone moving separately, but together. She took his other hand in hers and slowly started to move him back and forth. “It’s ok, just listen to the music, feel that instead.” She knew he couldn’t hear her, and that was part of the point. The bass was so loud it almost bounced them up with every beat, the treble rattled her bones in every measure, she had missed this. She felt her feet move of their own accord into the steps she had learned since childhood. She pulled him in and spun under his arm and around, smiling despite herself, how she had missed this. She let him go as she moved her arms and hands around in the swaying, flowing motions of her home country. She briefly thought about the days spent on street corners dancing for money to take home, but the music swept it away.   
She was surprised when a hand took one of hers. Junkrat had slowly unfurled from the hunched over mess of crazy and was tentatively nodding his head to the beat. “Better?” She mouthed. He gave her a half-grin and yanked her towards him spinning them both around as an answer. She felt torn between wanting to punch his teeth in for everything that had gone wrong today because of him and relief that he was more himself again, she settled for punching him semi-hard in the chest and she spun back around. He bent slightly into it with a cheeky grin, he knew he deserved that. He moved towards her in a flash of motion that she didn’t think he was capable of as he wrapped one long arm around her waist and dipped her towards the floor. She threw her weight into the motion and did a backwards handstand out of his arm into a graceful crouch. She gave him a smug look and he only gapped back. They stayed for about an hour, for a peg-leg he didn’t have terrible moves. By the time they collapsed back in a booth, he was sprawled out and his lean body was relaxed completely. Symmetra wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, but she felt this side-trip was well worth the delay, she hadn’t felt this good in a long time. She glanced at her visor display and saw two missed messages from Winston; the good feeling disappeared in a puff of smoke.  
Junkrat leaned over the table and pointed to the bag, motioning for it. He riffled briefly through the clothing before holding up a few wires and metal bits, which he happily started to twist together. Ah. Several things clicked into place in Symmetra’s head.   
“What now?” He mouthed.  
Symmetra held up a finger. Wait. She was busy writing a report to Winston and Roadhog, explaining why they would be in the city until midday the next day. She sent it and then mouthed back. “Sleep.”

“Vaswani, huh?”  
“Don’t push it, Fawkes. You’ve done enough damage today.” Sym warned him.   
He smiled and stayed quiet as they walked down the darkened street. He was happy now that his brain had stopped buzzing and he had some wires to fiddle with in his pocket. That and he hadn’t been dancing like that since….ever. He chanced a sidelong look at the woman next to him. She had her head bent over her tablet, checking hotels and hours of the university simultaneously. She had surprised him. It had been a long time since he had had a melt-down that bad. The last one left him in the fetal position for hours while Roadie looked on uselessly, but she had managed to break through the screaming chaos and pull him out. He wasn’t sure what this warm feeling in this chest was, indigestion?   
“Here.” She pointed towards a building in front of them. “One of the last ones to have a room.”  
The door chimed gently as they walked through. Junk stiffened, behind the desk was an omnic. Sym walked up unfazed. “Yes, I made a reservation for a room, under Vaswani?”  
“Ah, yes. Room 203.” He typed something into the computer. “Satya?”  
Sym froze. “Um, yes.” She said quietly.   
Junk felt a huge grin on his face. Ha! He knew her name now. He tried to stop smiling as she turned to look at him but it was too late. Even with half of her face hidden he could feel the icy glare.   
“Here you are.” The omnic handed her a card.   
“Thank you.” She said stiffly. 

“So, Satya.” Junk said as they ascended in the elevator.   
She twitched uncomfortably.   
“It’s nice.”  
“Thank you.” She ground out between her clenched teeth.  
She found their room and immediately placed her helmet on the table and collapsed on one of the beds. “This has been a complete disaster.”  
“Yeah.” He said, trying to be helpful.  
The look she gave him told him he was far from helpful.  
He searched his brain for anything helpful. “I, um…. I suppose some of it might have been a little, tiny bit my fault.” He finally admitted, scratching his neck with a metal finger.   
“You think?!” She snapped.  
“Well, yeah, that’s why I said it.”  
She muffled a groan in a pillow.   
He pulled off the helmet, he really didn’t like it, but he had a feeling if he took it off outside she would have shot him in the street.   
She sat up on the bed and rubbed her eyes. “First thing to take care of, is your disguise.”  
“Already got it.”  
“No, I mean besides the clothing. If they are going to let us in tomorrow, they will probably make us show our faces. You need to look as little like this,” She held up a security photo of him jumping the wall, “As possible.”   
He leaned forward and squinted at the photo. “It’s pretty blurry.”   
“Yes but there is one very distinctive feature.” She pointed to his hair.  
He clutched at his head. “No!”  
She swirled her hands together and a blue pair of scissors formed between them. “Yes, not many people have uniformly singed blonde hair here.”   
“No.” He stuck out a lip.  
“Yes.” She leaned towards him pointing the blades at his eye. “Need I remind you of your failures today? What you have cost this operation?” Her voice was low and deadly  
He gulped and leaned away from the crazy lady with the sharp object. “Um. Well, I guess it’s due for a trim, heh.”  
“Bathroom.” She pointed. “Shower first.”  
“Wot?! I took one two weeks ago! No water, that’s where I draw the line!” He crossed his arms resolutely.   
She rolled her eyes. “This is Oasis, they don’t waste water on things like showers. It’s sonic.”

It wasn’t a fun experience, but the smile and nod when he returned was worth it. “Good.” That was the first time she had used that adjective to describe him.  
She guided him to the chair in the bathroom and pushed on his shoulder until he sat with a thump. She stood for a while examining his hair before she took a step forward and began to cut. Junkrat felt a shiver go up his spine as her fingers ran through his hair and scalp. A groan of pleasure escaped his lips, which he covered with a cough three seconds later. Nailed it.   
“Are you…..alright.?” She asked in a wary voice.  
“Yep, nope, just fine.” He said too quickly. He bit his lip as she continued and closed his eyes as they rolled back in his head in happiness. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been touched gently. Slapped: last month. Punched: Today. Bite: Four months ago. Thrown bodily against a wall: three weeks ago. But been gently taken by the hand, had someone run their fingers through his hair? His brain unhelpfully supplied the answer: at least fifteen years. He squeezed his eyes and willed away the visions of home, of Mum. He couldn’t afford two episodes in one day.   
For another hour he concentrated on the wires in his hands, keeping the feelings, all feelings locked up behind them.  
“There!” Sym stepped back and admired her work. “Not bad.”   
He leaned over to see himself in the mirror. “Ahh! What did you do!?”  
“Cut your hair.”  
“I’m bald!” He ran a frantic hand over his much shorter hair. “My beautiful locks! You’ve ruined me looks!”  
She ruffled his short hair with a hand. “Nonsense, you’re not bald and it will grow back. I even made it look a little like a (she searched her scant slang language library) mohawk.”  
She made a few motions and the scissors faded back into threads. “And you look much better this way.”  
Junk tilted his head. “Eh?”  
“Nothing.” She walked back to the beds. “Try to get some sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. We need to get back to the ship as quickly as possible.”  
Junk climbed awkwardly into his own bed, usually he slept in his skivvies, but he didn’t think that would go over well. He lay on his back staring at the dark ceiling running his fingers through his hair.  
“Jamison.” He said after a while.  
“What?” She clearly wasn’t sleeping either.   
“My name is Jamison Fawkes.” He heard her sheets shift and he looked over. She was watching him curiously. He got the same feeling as back in the workshop after she had helped him with his gears. They lay there staring at each other for a long moment, each lost in their own untangling of thoughts and feelings.   
She reached out her hand, the one without the gauntlet. “Satya Vaswani.”  
He reached out his prosthetic then hesitated and switched arms, briefly wrapping his long fingers around hers. “Nice ta meet ya.”   
They both rolled back and eventually sleep found them both.


	5. 5

Symmetra finished her morning project with a long thread. She examined it critically, it would do the trick hopefully. She stood and stretched, watching the start of the sunrise through the window. Oasis was like a water lily before the day, a closed flower ready to blossom to the sun’s warmth, how perfect.  
A loud snore behind her interrupted her word painting. She sighed and shook her head, if she hadn’t been so tired she wouldn’t have been able to get any sleep. She regarded her roommate as she braided her dark hair; his long arms dangled off the sides of the bed and his two legs poked off the end, he probably had a hard time finding beds that fit him. He was constantly twitching, even in his sleep. Symmetra frowned as she remembered last night.  
There were definitely some wires crossed in his brain, not that she was unfamiliar with that, she had a few crossed herself. It had taken years of discipline and work to quiet her brain, control her own inner workings. Some called it a spectrum, autism, mental handicap, crazy, she preferred naturally orderly. Even still she had to constantly meditate and remind herself to keep calm, controlled, balanced, ordered.  
She turned the paper on the nightstand to align with the edge, some habits remained.  
She returned her eyes to Junkrat, no Jamison. Somehow thinking about him with an actual name felt strange, like he might get up and order coffee and a morning paper and talk about the stock markets. Maybe she should stick with Junkrat for now. He snored loudly and twitched so wildly his hand hit the bed stand. She wondered if he was born with wires crossed or had them crossed over his lifetime. His long, thin body showed years of scars from cuts, burns, and other forms of violence. Her guess was that it had something to do with growing up in a post-apocalyptic world; the thought of visiting that world made her queasy.  
She glanced at the time, two hours until the university opened to visitors, they should get up. She reached out a hand to shake him awake and automatically reached for his now soft and short hair to gently stroke it. She stopped her hand with her other one, what in the orderly world was she doing!? She pulled her fingers into a fist and frowned, she didn’t like that instinct. She wasn’t sure how their relationship had changed from reluctant work-proximity mates, but after last night, the image of his fingers around hers as they exchanged names in her mind, it undoubtedly had. Her mouth thinned, she didn’t like it, it was uncomfortable, unorderly, untidy as his shoe laces, unknown. She felt sick.  
The clock ticked by another minute, reminding her they were on a deadline. She smacked him in the ribs. “Wake up.”  
He groaned and held a hand to his side. “Mornin’ to you too.”  
“The university opens in two hours.”  
“Wha?” He opened one bleary eye and fumbled for the clock. “The hell did you wake me up for then?”  
“To prepare and have time to walk there.”  
He made a show of slowly getting out of bed, grunting and groaning with every movement. He stood and stretched, his hands easily touching the ceiling.  
“Here.” She thrust the project she had made at him.  
“What’s this?” He took the necklace out of her hands. It was a long screw with a bolt on it that had blunted spikes. He gave it a test spin and the bolt spun up and down the screw in a pleasing way.  
“In case you need something to fiddle with and run out of wires.” She explained.  
His golden eyes flickered toward her. “That’s right friendly of you.”  
She crossed her arms. “I can’t have you compromising this mission any more than you already have.”  
“Ah, that’s right tactical of you.” He said, rolling his eyes. But he did admire it as he put it around his neck.  
“Right then. Remember, don’t talk to anyone, don’t blow anything up, don’t steal anything, just don’t do anything.”  
“Permission to breathe, boss?” He threw her a salute.  
“Just, try to be civilized.” She sighed.

They had made half of the walk to the university and he hasn’t said a word, it was both relieving and unnerving. He simply limped beside her playing absentmindedly with his new necklace.  
“So when did you lose yours?”  
“Excuse me?”  
He pointed to her arm.  
Symmetra felt hot, cold, and sick all at once. She pushed all of them back into the box and firmly turned the key. “It’s a metal glove, my arm is perfectly fine under it.”  
“Huh. Could have fooled me.”  
“As most things do.”  
“It would just be weird. You, the person who loves everything perfect and symmetrical, have mismatching arms.”  
Symmetra ground her teeth. “It would be.”  
“Yeah, cut mine clean off with a circular saw.”  
“You did what?!”  
He twirled the bolt with his metal fingers idly. “Yeah, I was trying to get some wires through a tube, delicate stuff, and couldn’t get it with my stupid fingers. I was with a top class prosthetic maker and thought, ‘well why not?’ Solved me problem. Course had to wait a month for the arm to heal up and interface well enough to use it, but after that, smooth sailing!”  
Symmetra knew her mouth was wide open and she was standing there like a dumb statue, but she couldn’t remember how to look differently.  
He suddenly noticed she wasn’t moving. “Eh? Why’d ya stop?”  
She blinked. She literally had no words.  
He took two steps back and pulled on her arm. “Come on, come on, come on, I hate waiting!”

By the time they were approaching the university, Symmetra had recovered enough to gasp. “How stupid are you?”  
“Eh?”  
“You cut off your whole arm so you could reach some wires?!”  
“No!” He said with horror. “Only half my arm.”  
The sight of the security guard brought Symmetra back to the task at hand.  
“Remember. Try not to talk, there’s only one famous blonde Australian in this part of the world.”  
“Famous?”  
“Quiet.”  
She walked confidently up, handing over her ID with a fluid motion.  
“Good morning. I am Symmetra Vaswani with Viskar Industries.”  
The guard smiled. “Yes, I remember. Hard to forget a face like yours.”  
She didn’t understand, he couldn’t see half of her face. Perhaps he meant her ID.  
He glanced over at Junkrat. “And your companion?”  
“James Thornton, the project sponsor.”  
“Does he have as Viskar ID?”  
“No, he doesn’t work for Viskar.”  
“In that case, I will have to ask you two to remove your headwear.”  
Symmetra tried not to shake as they complied. Junkrat had a half-lidded bored expression. She noticed that he only used his good hand, keeping his prosthetic hidden in his sleeve.  
The guard looked straight at his blonde hair and down at the security photo.  
“Is this going to take long?” Junkrat said in a passible English accent. “We are on a schedule and are delayed because of yesterday.”  
“Patience. Let the man do his job.” Symmetra said calmly, managing to contain her shock. Five minutes ago she felt like she had met smarter rocks than Junkrat, and now she could have hugged him.  
The guard regarded them critically. “All right. Just know that the university is under video surveillance at all times. What wing are you visiting?”  
“Fabrication. We have a part we need to recreate.”  
“Third floor, room 309, have a nice visit.”  
She took back her ID with a bow. “Thank you.”  
Junkrat made a half bow as he walked past. They stayed silent as they entered the elevator.  
Junkrat leaned over slightly as the doors closed. “So?”  
“Your performance was acceptable. Just remember we are still being watched.” She said softly.  
An employee guided them to their lab, which was thankfully empty. “Do you need some instructions or help?” The lady asked.  
“Thank you, no.”  
They were left alone at last. Symmetra moves as quickly as she could, pulling out the part, flicking blueprints and measurements onto the holographic table and flipping on machines.  
“Anything I can do?”  
“No. Wait, yes. Pull up the schematics for the S-23 fuel pump, I think that’s the one used.”  
“Pretty sure it’s J-23.”  
She paused to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “You dare correct me?”  
He shrugged with a challenging smile. “If ya needs correcting.”  
He pulled up the two schematics. “See, the collar on the S is too big, won’t fit in the connector.”  
She regarded him with an inkling of respect. “You are correct.”  
He puffed out his chest. “I was the one who took it out in the first place.”  
She turned back to the table with a frown. “Don’t remind me.”  
They worked in low voices, scanning, fixing the 3-D hologram to fit the part, modifying until Symmetra nodded with satisfaction. “Perfect, that should fix it up.” She hit print and the machines whirred to life.  
“Fix what up?” A new voice asked from behind them. They both jumped and Symmetra let out a squeak.  
The woman behind them raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.”  
“We were concentrating, no offense taken.” Symmetra said calmly bowing to the woman; inside, she was screaming. She recognized the mismatching eyes and flaming red hair on the unnaturally tall and thin woman. She had seen it in the ‘do not engage these members of Talon’ meeting.  
“Moira O’Deorian.” She held out a hand. Symmetra took it with a smile. “Symmetra Vaswani, Viskar Industries.”  
Moira walked around the table, eyeing the project. “Oh, I know who you are.”  
“You do?”  
“The most talented architect in Viskar? Of course!” Moira pauses in front of Junkrat. From his posture, he seemed to remember the Talon meeting as well, maybe he hasn’t slept through the whole thing. “You, I don’t know.”  
“James Thornton. Project sponsor.” He said shortly.  
Her eyes narrowed. “Your accent. South England?”  
“Yep, my mum’s from there, dad’s from Sweden, my accent ended up in the middle.”  
“Ah, for a second I thought you were Australian. Terrible backwater country with their heads stuck in the past. It’s no wonder really, they did set their country back fifty years with their little revolution and nuclear explosion. Some people can’t just accept the future for what it is. All their trouble because they couldn’t get along with omnics, sad really.”  
Symmetra looked nervously at Junkrat. The Irish woman looked lax but her eyes were watching him closely.  
“Quite.” Was all he said. Moira nodded a little and turned back to Symmetra, her eyes lingering on his.  
“I actually called Viskar to ask for your services last month.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes, a new medical wing that needed an architect’s eye, I wanted the best.” Her eyes snapped back to Symmetra. “They said you were unavailable for projects.”  
Symmetra felt the sweat under her dress. Everything about Moira spoke of a viper snake, coiling just before striking.  
“Moreover they said you hadn’t been around the office lately.”  
“That’s true.” Symmetra gestured to the printing part. “This has been taking up my past two months. We try not to go into detail about architects' movements and current projects for privacy and safely.” She was sure that Moira could hear her heart pounding.  
“I see. Engineering was never my strong suit, My field of expertise is medical.” She looked uncomfortably long at Junkrat as she said this. One long hand extended and she ran a finger along the gauntlet. “Fascinating technology. I’ve been trying to get my hands on some of the hardlight technology, but Viskar is rather tight-lipped about it.”  
Symmetra pulled her arm back a little. “Yes, company policy to not share our ground-breaking technology.”  
Moira chuckled. “Understood.” Her eyes ran around Symmetra, she had never felt so exposed.  
“You know, if you ever tire of Viskar, I have some employers who would love to have someone as skilled as you.”  
“How flattering.” Symmetra’s mouth was dry. “I’ll keep that in mind.”  
Moira bowed her head. “You know where to find me if you’re interested.” Her golden dress shimmered as she turned. “Lovely to meet you, Thornton.”  
Junkrat extended his left hand but Moira moved quicker. She grabbed his right metal hand and brought it up to run her hand and eyes over it. Symmetra clenched her jaw together, sure Junkrat was about to pull grenades out of thin air and shove them down Moira’s throat. He didn’t move. “Fascinating.” Moira stared at him for a long moment and then dropped his hand and walked out the door with a wave.

Symmetra let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. She braced her hands on the table and took several deep breaths. Junkrat hadn’t moved, his hands were in tight fists, his neck tendons straining and his eyes flashed murder.  
“Junkrat?  
He didn’t respond. He was breathing quickly, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His arms twitched.  
“Jamison!”  
No response. She could feel him working up to something violent.  
Symmetra glanced up at the security camera and stepped towards him.  
“Jamison.” She took his fists in her hands. “I know. But we have a job to do, we cannot fail here, people are counting on us.”  
His look was beyond wild as he looked towards the door. “People can get fuc-“  
“I’m counting on you.”  
He finally met her eyes. “Yeah?”  
“Yes.” She tapped him on the chest with a finger. “We can stick it to her by stealing our agent before Talon can get him.”  
His hands slowly relaxed and he tilted his head to the side with a manic grin. His voice was low and cold and sent a shiver up Saya’s spin. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

“So, um. Now what?” Junkrat asked as they exited the building.  
“Now we leave.” Symmetra tucked the newly formed pump stabilizer safely in her bag. “The sooner we are out of this beautiful and orderly city, the better for the mission.” She looked around longingly at the city around, trying to soak in the order before she left.  
“But, um, I didn’t exactly come in through the door.” He muttered out of the side of his mouth.  
“I am quite aware.” She muttered back darkly. “We will be leaving through my teleporter. As long as I can get a clear shot out into the desert, I should be able to form one.”  
“Should?”  
“Would you like to try?!” She snapped.  
He held up his hands defensively. “You’re just usually more sure of your tapestries than ‘should’.” He made air quotes.  
“Teleporters are complicated. You have to know the ground shape, the angle, the distance, the height of the exact spot you want to put it down on.” She stopped and pulled him towards a wall observation platform she spotted. “That’s the reason I didn’t kick your idiotic ass through one as soon as your showed up in the city.”  
“Oh, I thought it was because you secretly wanted the company.”  
“Hardly.”  
As they were about to climb, Symmetra suddenly found herself pulled in another direction.  
“Hang on a second.” Junkrat opened the door of the shop next to the stairs. Inside were shirts, hats, scarves, keychains and knickknacks all declaring their love for Oasis.  
Symmetra was flabbergasted. He was holding up the mission to buy a souvenir.  
“You are utterly ridiculous and irresponsible! Get back to the stairs now!” She hissed as she followed him down an aisle.  
“Won’t take but a minute.” He replied calmly as he picked up a snow globe that had the Oasis gardens in it. He moved past her to the check out. “Some things are more important than being on time.” He said vaguely.  
Symmetra practiced her breathing control and contained her urges to break off his peg leg while he paid and packages his item. “Right then!” He pointed dramatically to the stairs. “Up we go! Hurry up!”  
The gall of that man, she couldn’t comprehend.  
They started climbing the stairs, and back in schedule and track, Symmetra’s mind wandered back to the previous conversation.  
“Why did you follow me to the city?”  
He didn’t answer for a while, she thought he was out-right ignoring her. “This whole ‘good guy’ thing is new, ya know? I just felt like it was something a good guy would do.”  
She laughed. “Where did you learn about what good guys do? Comic books.”  
“No!” He stuck out a lip. “Ok, yeah.”  
She shook her head as they arrived on top of the wall. There were about three other people wandering around the platform, taking in the cityscape and the desert dunes. “We wait for them to leave.” She whispered to him.  
They stood, waiting, looking out over the desert, far off there were glints of ships and planes and sand-drifters, one of them was the Overwatch ship.  
“I also, well. It’s kinda embarrassing to admit.” Junkrat said, spinning his necklace. “But when you left, well, actually the whole time I’ve known you, I don’t think you really think I’m worth anything.”  
Symmetra turned to stare at him. “What?”  
He took off his helmet and scratched his sweaty forehead. “Yeah, I know, it’s stupid, and mostly I am, but, it’s just be nice for someone besides Roadie to think I have some worth, ya know?”  
His look was painfully needy and unsure, like a young child.  
Symmetra removed her own helmet, it suddenly felt too small. “Well, you are correct. That is exactly how I felt.”  
Junkrat shrunk five inches.  
She put a hand on his arm. “Felt. You have done surprisingly well for being in a city that is completely your opposite. You were very helpful with the fabrication.”  
He grew four inches. “So you changed your mind?” His eyes shone unnaturally bright.  
“I’ve taken it under advisement.” She said vaguely.  
“Huh?”  
She straightened. “They’ve gone, we must act quickly.”  
She had been busy scanning with her visor and had found and calculated a spot to teleport to. She quickly shaped the teleporter pad between her hands. “When I finish we must go quickly before they see it. Ready?”  
“Yeah, yeah!”  
She spun it into existence and a large blue portal appeared.  
“Now!”  
They both ran through it, tripping on the sand half a mile away from the wall. Symmetra turned and immediately collapsed the teleporter. She breathed out and smiled. “We made it!”  
“Hey! We did it!” Junkrat picked her up and spun her around. “Fair Dinkums, we made it out! That teleported was the weirdest feeling of my life!”  
“Stop that!” She smacked his hand. “We need to move.”

It didn’t take long to find the ship. They ran up the gang pank that was down and waiting for them. Roadog looked up and took in the panting pair in the strange attire.   
“Took you long enough.”  
Symmetra was already inserting the new pump stabilizer into the wall. “We had some delays.”  
Roadhog looked Junkrat up and down.  
“It’s called fashion.” Junkrat sniffed and stuck his nose in the air.   
Roadhog covered a laugh with a rattling cough.   
“Yeah, I’m over it too.”   
By the time Symmetra had finished putting in the pump, Junkrat had stripped down to his shorts. “Much better.” He grinned.   
Roadhog flipped switches and knobs and the ship hummed pleasantly.   
Symmetra walked up to stand next to him. “We can take off?”  
For an answer, the ship lifted off the sand and left the shining city behind.   
Symmetra looked mornfully at the veil and helmet in her hands. “Next stop, Australia.”


	6. 6

Roadhog turned the page in his book while looking over the top of it at Junkrat. Something had changed. He didn’t need to read the book, he knew every line of it, but it was amazing how much someone could learn if people didn’t think they were paying attention. For all they knew he was sitting with his head in his book, but he was watching them closely over the top of the yellowed pages. Something was different.   
Junkrat was putting together one of his signature compression mines, showing Symmetra the different components and his special wires; he never showed those to anyone. When she leaned over and straightened one of the grenades on the ground to make it even with the rest of them, he didn’t move it back out of spite. Were they friends?  
Symmetra was actually sitting and listening to Junkrat talk without a constant frown of disdain. And there was that necklace Junkrat wore now. Roadhog had watched her from across the workshop for a month now and he recognized her work when he saw it. Did he tell her? Did something happen in the city? There wasn’t tension in the air between them like their use to be.   
Roadhog watched them some minutes more before he put his finger on it. Acceptance. It wasn’t friendship, per se, it was something different, more needed, acceptance of some quirks they both had. He turned his page. Interesting. 

“So how did you end up in Overwatch? I heard you helped Tracer and Winston?” Symmetra asked them as they sat around the table eating lunch.   
The two Australians exchanged looks.  
“Aw, come on, she’ll think it’s funny.”  
“……”  
“Ok, maybe not funny, but maybe interesting.”  
“……”  
“Ok, maybe not interesting, but-”  
“Just tell me!” She snapped, throwing her arms in the air.   
Junkrat looked at Roadhog who nodded slowly.   
“Well……”

“There she is, Roadie! Isn’t she a beaut!?” Junkrat had his nose pressed up against the glass, fogging up the spear display. “16th century, solid gold spear of the king of Numbani. Just waiting to be taken.”  
Roadhog sighed.   
“Oh, right, keep the stealie stealie on the downlow.” Junk whispered.   
He waited five seconds. “Ok, let’s get going!”  
He threw up a grenade, ready to blow, but Roadhog caught it.  
“What?”  
“…..”  
“Security? Don’t make me laugh. Have you seen those bots out there they call security? OR-somethings. They won’t be an issue.”  
He placed the bomb again and Roadhog took it again. “What!!?”  
“……”  
“Ok fine! You punch it!” Junkrat crossed his arms sourly. “You never let me have fun.”  
Roadhog wound up a punch and there was the sound of exploding glass. They both looked in confusion at the intact display.  
Junkrat looked around. “What was that?”  
From down the hall there were more explosions and gunfire. “Let’s check it out!” Junkrat began a hop-run down the hall.   
The room was in chaos, there was a huge monkey fighting a man dressed in black, and some tiny person flashing around the room fighting a blue woman. Junkrat looked around for what they were fighting over, his eyes fell on a shiny glove, bingo!  
He snuck over to the shattered glass, barely missed by a case thrown across the room, and peeked up over the stand. No one was looking, and if it was worth all this fighting, well he had to have it. He reached up and took it down and almost fell from the weight, it was just as heavy as it looked, unfortunately it also made a hefty clunk.  
The four combatants paused and looked in his direction.   
Junkrat froze mid-crawl as four very different people examined him with confusion.  
“He with you?” An impossibly low voice growled.  
“Nope.” A female replied. “You?”  
“No.”  
There was a scuffle and suddenly a figure wreathed in smoke appeared next to him.“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He growled. A clawed hand reached for a shotgun and pointed it right between his eyes.   
“Commere!” Roadhog’s hook flashed across the room and snagged the man, dragging him away from Junkrat.   
“Thanks, Mate!” Junkrat yelled.   
The man turned into black smoke and drifted just out of reach of Roadhog’s hand, firing on him. Roadhog flinched and took the bullets in the side but he pulled out the scrap gun and fired his own load of metal bits into the man. He grunted and stumbled slightly and Hog took the opportunity to take a huge inhale of his metal canister. They stood a few feet apart, sizing each other up.  
Meanwhile, the blue woman was aiming her rifle at Junkrat’s head. She fired once, it took off the tips of his hair. He squeaked and threw himself at the ground, rolling with the gauntlet. She took a few running steps to get him back in her sight and raised her rifle again. Junkrat grinned and held up his trigger. “Have a nice trip!”   
She barely had time to notice the mine rolled beneath her feet before it launched her ten feet in the air, right into the path of the monkey with the electric gun. She gave a cry of pain as electricity wracked her body and she gritted her teeth with pain as she raised an arm and fired off a grappling hook which zipped her off to safety.   
The man in black and Hog were still trading metal slugs and the shotguns seemed to be getting the better of Hog’s thick skin. Just before he had to go down on a knee, a small blur blinked into the peripheral and rattled off a salvo of bullets into the bone-looking mask. He hissed in pain and turned to smoke, making his way back up towards the blue woman.   
“Retreat!” The man in black yelled. There was a swirl of smoke, explosions and confusion and they were gone. The huge monkey leaped after them. Junkrat was left holding the gauntlet and Hog holding his bleeding side.   
There was a flash of light and suddenly there was the tiny woman standing in front of him.   
“Thanks, Luv!” She held out her hands. Junkrat recognized her, anyone who knew anything about Overwatch would know her tiny face, Tracer. Junkrat felt a flash of nostalgia wash over him. He remembered seeing her on the vids back home when he was a boy. She was always running around, taking out the omnics, saving people with lightning speed. He had wanted to be just like her, a long time ago.   
“Um….” She looked from the gauntlet to him and back again, waiting.  
After a second’s consideration, he handed the gauntlet over without a fight. She gave him a warm, soft smile. “You know, the world could always use more heroes.” She winked, flashed over to put the gauntlet back and then flashed away.   
Roadhog tossed aside an empty canister and came to stand next to him. “.....?”  
“What? You mean steal it back?”  
“…….”  
Junkrat put his hands in his pockets, staring at the hole in the ceiling. “Naw, not this time, Mate.”

Symmetra looked from one to the other. “You mean you accidentally helped them while trying to steal Doomfist’s gauntlet?”  
“Yeah, basically.” Junkrat shrugged.  
She shook her head. “You’re either very lucky or stupid or…no I think that’s the two options.”  
He grinned and stretched. “Right place, right time.”  
The computer beeped and flashed a landing countdown.   
Junkrat winked at her. “Speaking of which, welcome to Australia.”

Symmetra watched the landing map beep as they approached. She frowned as the dot marker Junkertown got further away.   
“Shouldn’t we be landing closer to the city?”  
Roadhog snorted and Junkrat laughed. He slapped her on the shoulder. “This is wot ya brought us for, leave this to us.”  
She brushed her shoulder off with a glare. “Is there a reason we are not landing on the recommended site?”  
“Cos the plane ain’t from here, so it doesn’t know. We land near Junkertown, the plane will be dismantled and sold for scrap before we could open the door.”

Instead, they landed near a dilapidated looking building about fifteen kilometers away. Junkrat pushed the door button with a flourish. “Welcome to the Outback!”  
Symmetra was hit with a wave of homesickness. The landscape looked just like the arid flats back in India. It had red dirt, scraggly trees, huge rocks and sad looking houses. She cautiously followed the men who were unloading some crates. She was busy looking around and didn’t see them stop. She had one foot in the air when she was roughly grabbed back by Roadhog.   
“Oh, careful there, Sym.” Junkrat crouched down next to where she had been about to step. “Looks like our home defenses are still up, eh?”  
“Defenses?”  
He scoffed. “You didn’t think we would leave this place free for the pickin’ did ya? Got to set up some booby traps to make sure people remember this ain’t theirs.”  
The pair of them started going around and picking through the dust and dirt. With her scanner activated, Symmetra could see lines of electricity, hidden explosives, barbed wire and more, cleverly hidden around the building. She shaded her eyes and looked up at the structure more closely. It looked like a barn of some sorts, or a farm perhaps? Whatever it was, it had hit its prime thirty years ago.  
“All finished.” Junkrat cautiously opened the door, his grenade launcher in one hand. “All clear.”  
The two junkers opened the door and looked expectantly at her.   
“Thank you.” She murmured uncomfortably as she stepped through. Dirt. Dust. Dirt. Dust. Dust. That was all her brain could process.   
Junkrat walked through the open area, his hands in his pockets. “Well, Hog, looks like we’re home.”  
Hog gave a gruff retort.  
“Yeah, yeah, your house, not mine, I know.” Junkrat rolled his eyes.  
Symmetra took a small break from her dust panic attack to look at Roadhog. “You’re house?”  
Roadhog gave a silent nod as he dropped a crate in the room, kicking up dust.   
“You were a farmer?”  
Another nod.  
“What happened?!”  
Junkrat dragged a crate across the room to a table. “What happened to any of us? The Omnics, that’s what.” He spat on the floor and Symmetra felt her stomach turn and an eye twitch.  
“When they try to take your country, you stand up for yourself.” Junkrat continued. “You fight for what’s yours.”  
“And blow it up?” Symmetra knew immediately that was the wrong thing to say. Both junkers turned on her, dark looks on their faces.   
Junkrat walked over till he was standing over her. “What’s that, Luv?” He asked in a quiet, deep voice.  
Symmetra swallowed hard. She supposed she had gotten too comfortable with her role in the team as leader, especially in Oasis. She had forgotten that though teammates, these men were dangerous criminals, unhinged and deadly. Junkrat in Oasis seemed like a lost puppy, Junkrat here felt like a rabid wolf, waiting for someone to cross his yard.   
“I am sorry, I misspoke.” She dropped her eyes to the floor, her gaze was met with more dirt.   
Junkrat walked away after a moment more, but Roadhog hadn’t moved from his spot, staring at her, breath rasping through his mask.   
Symmetra tried to ignore him as she went to the ship for her supplies. When she came back, he was busy getting the motorbike onto a lift, she inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. They were busy for the next hour bringing in supplies and weapons and contacting base to let them know they had arrived. Symmetra rubbed her forehead, she had forgotten how tired she was, she looked at the time, it was late, and that brought up another issue she had not thought about.  
“Where are we sleeping?” She asked.  
Junkrat looked up from the bolt he was attempting to loosen. “Hog’s got his own room. Don’t bother asking if he’ll share.”  
Symmetra looked over a small room that opened into the back of the house. There was a huge bed inside, probably taking up the whole of the room.   
“There’s a couch over there.” He pointed to the back of the room where there was a small loft. Below the loft were various mechanical equipment and the saddest looking couch she had ever seen.   
“It’s comfier than it looks.” He assured her.   
“I’m sure.” She said not a little bit convinced. “Those are the two options?”  
“Well, I’m sure we could make you a little cot on the floor somewhere.”  
“I think I will sleep on the ship.”  
“Wouldn’t recommend that.” Junkrat wagged a finger. “You never know who’s roaming around looking for scrap.”  
“Are we in danger of losing our ship?” She added a new item to her worry list.  
“Naw, not really we dragged our old camo net over it. But it’s safer in here with our defenses set up, and of course, Roadie and I are top notch bodyguards.” He puffed out his chest.  
She looked with misery at the couch, which looked miserably back at her. “I suppose I will try the couch.”  
“It folds out into a bed, if that makes you feel better.”  
“It actually makes me feel worse.”  
“Can’t you just make a tapestry one?”  
“That would be a waste of the energy and resources, and I would greatly appreciate it if you called it by its true term hardlight.”  
He shrugged. “Sure, sure.”  
Symmetra busied herself shaking out the quilt next to the couch, she gave it up as a lost cause, too much motor oil and gasoline smells hung onto it. She instead pulled out a shawl from her bag and wrapped it around herself. Her eyes roamed around the building as she tried to get comfortable on the couch. It was a large open space with built-in lofts and huge doors. Much of the room had machinery and scrap, taped up schematics, and oil cans scattered around it. Dust. She pushed the thought to the back of her head and commanded it to stay there. There was a bang as Roadhog brought in the last crate, he looked straight at her and dropped it with an unnecessarily loud crack.   
“Oi! Those are the explosives, you drongo!” Junkrat yelled from under the bike.   
It was clear that Roadhog had not forgotten her comment and was still upset. He thumped to his back bedroom and slammed the door, cascading dust down around the room. Symmetra began to wonder if she had to worry about a brain-full of scrap in the middle of the night.  
Junkrat crawled out from under the bike, looking towards the shut door. He walked over and crouched in front of her. “Hey, um. Listen.” He scratched his cheek leaving a grease mark. “The war here, and the explosion, well. People like Hog, it did a number on them. Lot of ‘em lost everything. It’s a touchy subject.”  
Symmetra raised an eyebrow at this sudden heart-to-heart attitude of his. “And what did he lose?”  
“Dunno, didn’t ask.”  
“You’ve been with him for two years and you never asked him about his past?”  
“What do I look like, a therapist?” He rolled his eyes skyward. “I just know, if you bring it up again, you might not walk away in one piece, yeah?”  
“Thank you for the warning, I will adjust my conversations accordingly.”  
“Um, right, yeah.” He stood up and walked back towards the bike.   
“And what did you lose?” Symmetra called after him.  
He stopped and stood still for a moment, the overhead light casting long shadows down the contours of his body. “Too young, don’t remember it.” He said and then returned to his work.   
Symmetra had never been good at reading people, but she had never been more sure that he had just lied to her.

Symmetra tried to sleep, she really did. But everytime she closed her eyes she could smell the dust. She looked around the room, trying to distract herself and found only more dust and dirt and cobwebs. Even in her tiny home in India, she had made sure it was immaculate, otherwise she could never concentrate on her work, or sleep.  
Junkrat had passed out on the floor next to the bike. His arms were behind his head, one hand still holding his wrench. He had new black marks all over his face and body from the machine, one long one trailed down his ribs and across to his hip bones. Honestly, did he not know how to put on a belt properly? She could practically trace his hips down to the narrow V to his-. She jumped up from the couch with a start. That was it, she was going to clean.


	7. 7

Junkrat snorted awake, he could feel the dry air cracking his lips, ah Australia. He sat up and stretched his arms. Roadie was cooking something over the propane cookstove and Sym was cleaning a window. He took a deep breath and frowned, something was missing, something key to his atmosphere. It was then that he noticed the floor was shiny instead of matte. He wiped a finger on the floor and instead of his finger getting coated in dirt, he left a grease smudge on the floor. He looked around in awe, the whole damn place was clean.   
“Did you clean all this?” He asked Sym.  
“Yes.”  
“We don’t have any cleaning stuff.”  
“I brought my own.”  
“Why?” He was dumbfounded.  
Sym finished the window and turned around, glaring at the smudge on the floor. He tried to rub it out and only made it bigger. She sighed and walked over to wipe it up. “Because I need a clean environment to work in.”  
“Ah.” Junkrat modded understandably. “Allergies.”  
“Of a sort.”   
“What time did you get up?”  
“5:30 am in Oasis.”  
He blinked and scrunched up his forehead. “Wot? You didn’t sleep?!”  
“Not yet, but now that you are awake I can finish.” And she proceeded to wipe out a dusty Junkrat shape on the floor.   
Junkrat took the cloth from her. “I’ll do that, go get some food.”  
There was a brief power struggle for the item but she finally relented with a small thank you. He finished it and straightened up in time to see her approach Roadhog. She cleared her throat and clasped her hands in front of her.   
“I want to apologize for my comment yesterday. It has become clear to me that while I have read much about your history, I did not live it and therefore cannot pass judgement on your actions or know what truly happened. I was in error.” She hesitated then added. “I myself have had some good intentions go awry and cause harm to people.”  
Junkrat held his breath and looked from one to the other. Roadhog stared at her for a good thirty seconds before handing her a plate of fried eggs. Junkrat let out his breath, all seemed to be forgiven.   
Sym ate her eggs in silence and then curled up on the couch with her shawl. “I am sorry, but I require at least thirty minutes of sleep, then I can get started on our rescue mission.” She placed her tablet down and set an alarm and was passed out in the matter of a minute.   
Roadhog reached over and tapped the alarm, turning it off and resumed his cooking.  
“She’ll be mad, Mate.”  
“Yeah.”   
Roadhog handed him a plate and then started packing a burlap sack.   
“Going into town?” Junkrat asked around a mouthful of breakfast.   
“Yeah.”  
“Bridgers or Scraptin?”   
“Bridgers.”  
“Can you pop in on Alice while you’re there?”  
Roadhog stopped putting empty canisters into his bag. “Alice? Why?”  
Junkrat pointed a thumb at the sleeping Sym. “She don’t exactly blend in, and I don’t think she brought a junker outfit with her.”  
Roadhog looked her up and down, taking measurements. “Sure.”   
“Thanks, Mate.”  
Junkrat pushed the last egg around on his plate. “And um, can you see if Travis is there still?”  
Roadhog nodded. “Yeah. Got something for em?”  
Junkrat rustled through one of his crates before coming up with a small package. “Here.”  
Roadhog took it and put the sack over his shoulder. He looked from Junk to Sym.  
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll watch her.” Junk waved him off. “Have a good trip.”  
Junkrat heard the slam of the front door as Roadhog left. “Right, time to get to work on ya, girl.” He patted the motorcycle affectionately. Then he looked over at the sleeping Sym. “Or maybe I’ll just put together some grenades. Much quieter.”

As he predicted. Symmetra did have a fit when she woke up four hours later. It was strange, in his experience, most people threw things and turned over tables when mad, she straightened things to perfect angles and straight lines while chewing him out for throwing off her schedule. He soothed her by proudly showing off that he had managed to keep his grenade mess confined to the table. She took a deep breath and swallowed the smile that threatened to show. He looked so damn pleased with himself it was hard not to laugh.   
She turned her attention to the rescue mission, pulling up the holograms of Junkertown that was available, looking at the streets and buildings, asking Junkrat for specifics when needed.   
“Where do you think they would be holding him?” She asked.  
“Posh prisoner like that? He’s worth some gold so I would say she would have him nice and close, probably in her personal holding cell.” Junkrat poked the map with a finger, the area turned orange.,   
“Do you have any experience with this area?”  
“Well, broke out of it a while ago, but I had some explosives on the inside, wasn’t exactly subtle.”  
“You broke out of a jail with explosives? Why didn’t they take those from you?”  
“Hid ‘em.”  
She gave him a look over the hologram. “Do I want to know where?”  
“Probably not.”  
There was a thud as Roadhog slammed the front door. He stomped in, dropping a large sack on the ground.   
“Roadie, got anything?” Junkrat asked, pulling open the sack.  
Roadhog clamped a hand on Junkrat’s head and moved him three feet away. “Back off.” He began to unload full canisters of the compound he always had on hand. Symmetra was curious but not curious enough to ask the man who could lift her off her feet with one hand.   
Roadhog pulled out a package and threw it to Junkrat. “There’s a Mech battle soon.”  
Junkrat tucked the package under an arm. “Yeah, at the Scrapyard?”  
“Yeah. Four days.”  
“Perfect!” Junkrat hobbled over to the hologram and poked another section of the map. “That’s right here. If it’s a big fight, lots of people come from all over the outback, gates are open, security is low, perfect time to slip in and out with little fuss.”  
Symmetra used her glove’s interactive pen to draw a new room on the map for the holding cell. “How does this room connect up to the rest of the building?”  
Junkrat grabbed her hand and started to draw a line, nothing happened. He shook her hand like it was a pen. “How do you get this thing to work?”  
She snatched her hand away. “You don’t get it to work, I do!”  
“Ugh, fine.” He sighed with more drama than needed. He pointed and she followed behind with the pen.   
“There’s a back access way through the upper hallways of the scrapyard, right here, there’s a door that connects up. We should be able to get through all the way to the cell through this path.” He traced a line from the stands to the cell through a few hallways.   
“You are certain?’  
“Pretty damn!” He smiled confidently.  
Symmetra looked at Roadhog out the corner of her eye and he gave a confirming nod.   
“What kind of security is there along the route?”  
“This is Junkertown so maybe a few guards and traps, nothing too technical.”  
Symmetra found that deeply disappointing, she liked technical.  
“Nothing we can’t handle.”  
“What about exiting once we have the agent? I will need a clean view of the surrounding area to make a teleporter.”  
Junkrat tapped his chin thoughtfully. “The whole place is enclosed, that’s gonna be an issue.”  
“Roof.” Roadhog rumbled behind him.  
Junkrat snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah! There’s access hatches to the roof all over the place, people gotta get up and replace the tin every season.”   
“Do you know where these access points are?”  
“Nope.”  
“How would you suggest we gain this knowledge?”  
Junkrat and Roadhog both exchanged looks, then Junkrat brightened. “Terry!”  
“Terry?”  
“Mate o’ mine, he use to work on the maintenance of Junkertown, I bet he would know where they are!”  
“Where is Terry?”  
Junkrat waved a hand to the west. “Out that way about an hour. Roadhog and I can go.”  
“I will be coming with you.” Symmetra snapped her hand closed and the hologram disappeared.  
Junkrat’s mouth dropped open. “Ya what?”  
“I will be coming with you, I wish for the locations of the roof entrances to be marked on the holographic map.”  
“Can’t you just give it to me?” Junkrat asked hopefully.  
“Oh sure! Hold out your hand!”   
Junkrat held out his hand expectantly. Symmetra opened her hand and the hologram came to life, she turned it upside down over his hand and the hologram remained projected from her glove.   
“Oh.” He squinted at her. “Was that sarcasm?” He grinned as she huffed in response, shutting down the hologram.  
Junkrat grinned at Roadhog, who sat down on the couch and crossed his arms, waiting for the show.   
“You know, if you’re coming with us, you’ll need to blend in.”  
Symmetra frowned at him and pulled her shawl around herself. “I can wear this, that should be sufficient.”  
Junkrat laughed and Roadhog’s rumbling chuckled joined in. “Naw, Sym, that ain’t gonna fool anyone, if you want to blend in, you gotta look the part.” He tossed her the package Roadhog brought. She looked at him skeptically as she opened it and took out the clothing.   
“No.”  
“Yes.”  
“I cannot wear this.”  
Junkrat slid up beside her and threw an arm around her shoulders. “Look at it this way, you like being in balance and harmony and all that crap, right?”  
She tried to shrug him off but he made it clear he wasn’t about to let go, he was enjoying making her uncomfortable..   
“Remember back in that shiny city you made me wear a bucket on my head and covered my beautiful peg leg with bulky plates?”  
“They were not bulky!”  
“I played along like a good boy.” He purred, his nose almost touching hers, his smile malicious. “Now it’s your turn to be a good girl.”  
Symmetra opened her mouth to argue and then closed it, looking thoughtfully at the rusty brown colored clothes in her hand. He was right, there was balance in everything, even a dust-covered, drought-plagued place like this. And even more importantly, there was the mission, if she stuck out, the mission was compromised. She squeezed her eyes shut, the missions with Viskar had never required her to degrade herself like this.   
“Fine.” She gritted between her teeth.   
“That’s the spirit!” Junkrat gave her shoulders a squeeze and released her from the sweaty embrace.   
“May I use your room?” She asked Roadhog stiffly.   
For someone who didn’t show expressions, he looked very amused. He waved her over to the room.  
“Thank you.” She snapped. She would need a long meditation vacation after this, and a spa day.

Symmetra wasn’t sure how, but most of it fit except the shirt was a little too tight and the shoes a little too big. It consisted of a black shirt that came down to her midriff, brown-green pants and tan-chaps that buckled over it, leather arm bracers that had bits of metal around it, and a sleeveless leather jacket (Junker Dva guys, I just stole her look) that was no longer than the shirt and had seen better days. She lifted the aviator goggles to her face and looked at the cracked mirror, it had all seen better days. She took off her visor and began to fit it into the goggle’s frames, this whole country had seen better days.   
A picture in the corner of the mirror caught her eye, she gently pulled it free of the frame for a closer look. It was of a man, woman and little girl. The picture looked old, she flipped it over but there was no writing. She looked at the man in the picture closer and almost yelped. She didn’t recognize the face at all, but the hook at the man’s hip was unmistakable. Symmetra stared at the picture harder, willing it to make more sense, was this man really Roadhog? The man in the picture looked confident, he had short, military, brown hair, brown eyes, a cocky grin and a huge frame built on pure muscle, a far cry from the Roadhog sitting outside. He had one hand around the woman’s waist and was holding the little girl in his other arm. He had a family?  
She was putting the picture back, still confused, when she caught sight of something outside the window that looked over the back of the property. Two rusty iron crosses marked the ground just outside the window. He had a family. Symmetra bit her lip and looked back up at the picture. These men had seen better days. 

“Bike ready?”   
“Eh?” Junkrat looked up from the necklace he was fiddling with. “Yeah, I tuned her up last night, still not enough seats for everyone. I was thinking I would look through Terry’s scrap pile while we were there, see if I could make another side car.”  
Grunt.  
The door finally opened and Sym walked out slowly. She was pulling on various bits of the clothing with a frown. “They do not fit well.” She stated crossly.   
Junkrat couldn’t help but stare, he didn’t see anything wrong with the outfit, in fact-  
Roadhog’s hand smacked him in the back of his head.  
“Ow! Watch it! You’ll put an eye out like that!” Junkrat rubbed his skull and glared at Roadhog. “You’re the one who got the clothes, you drongo!”  
Symmtra placed the boots neatly on the table. “These do not fit enough to allow me to perform my function.”   
“Well, your shiny shoes are a bit out of place.” Junkrat pointed to the clean white boots she always wore.   
Roadhog stood up and walked over, he leaned down and took a closer look at Sym’s foot. She looked supremely uncomfortable. Without a word he went into his back room.   
“What’s up with him?” Junkrat tilted his head.  
Sym didn’t answer but shifted her weight nervously. Junkrat played back the last minute in his head. Come to think of it, she had been acting a little strange since she had come out. Oh no! Maybe she found Roadhog’s magazine collection, or worse his pachimaris!  
Roadhog returned and placed two boots in Sym’s hands. “Here.”  
Sym stared at them for a long moment before trying them on. “Thank you, they fit adequately.”  
He nodded and opened one of his books, sitting down on the abused couch with a squeak.   
“There’s still that issue.” Junkrat pointed to her blue and white arm-length glove.  
She placed a hand on it protectively. “I can make it look more like Junker gear if I must.”   
He inwardly grinned. It was so nice to see her out of her comfort zone, unbalanced, unsure. When they were in Oasis he had felt like an idiot, constantly tripping over himself, but here, the tables were turned. And of course, if he saw a sore spot, Junkrat could never help but dig at it a little bit.  
“Oh, I can help you with it!” He offered generously, picking up various scrap. “I’m kinda an expert at this. Can’t tell you what it cost me to get this grand knowledge, but I’ll give you a hint.” He put a hand up and whispered. “It involves two body parts.”  
She didn’t even crack a smile at his brilliant joke. “I can take care of it myself.”  
“Nonsense! We’re a team!” He moved over and started prodding her glove. “You got some sort of a release switch?”  
“I insist you leave it be!” Her voice was higher and panicked?  
She tried to pull his hand off but his nimble fingers were too fast for her. He grinned and poked her arm teasingly. “I mean, just look at all these smooth parts, we’ll need to take care of that, maybe add some spikes here.” He touched the top of the shoulder and three blue light glowed. “Ah, here we go!” He touched them with three fingers before she could stop him.   
“Dont-!” She yelled.  
One moment he was teasing and laughing, the next, the whole bloody arm released and was resting in his hands.   
The three people froze looking at the arm in his hands.   
“Bloody hell!” Junkrat yelped. “The glove took your whole fucking arm off!”   
Wham! Symmetra hit him so hard he hit the floor, the arm skittered across the ground. He looked up, confusion all over him. Her hair was falling in her face and tears were gathering in her eyes. His eyes moved to her shoulder, it wasn’t gushing blood, there was a neat and clean nerve connection point. It hit him like a ton of bricks, it wasn’t a glove.   
Symmetra turned and ran out the house, slamming the door behind her.  
Junkrat turned to Roadhog, still baffled. “What the hell happened?”  
Roadhog shook his head. “Idiot.”  
“Wot? How was I suppose ta know?”  
“It was obvious.”  
“Obvious?!”  
Roadhog stood up with a sigh and walked over to the discarded limb. He picked it up. “Everyone lies.” He dusted it off. “Lies to themselves most of all.” He turned his mask towards Junkrat and Junkrat felt small.   
“You just took the biggest lie she tells herself and shoved it in her face.”  
Roadhog headed for the door.   
“Wait, I can help.” Junkrat called after him.   
Roadhog pointed a finger at him. “Sit, stay.” and he closed the door after him. 

Roadhog sighed and rubbed his neck. Kids. he stepped carefully through the barbed wire and traps. He noticed that Symmetra had somehow avoided all the defenses. He wasn’t sure if he was impressed in her or disappointed in his defenses. Note to self: more barbed wire. He spotted her sitting by the cliffside towards the back of his property. He looked down at the arm in his hands, it had been a long time since he had comforted anymore, it had been even longer since he had to comfort a woman. The last time was….He scratched his memory. Maggie, she had fallen out of a tree and he had carried her back in the house and made her laugh with stories about when he fell off the roof. No, no that wasn’t it. It had been Jenny, he had run his fingers through her hair and held her tight while she had coughed up her blood and her life.   
He grunted and shook his head, couldn’t think about that now.   
He walked up heavily and sat down next to her with a groan, getting up would be a bitch.   
She was hugging her knees to her chest and had her hand protectively covering her shoulder.   
“He’s an idiot.”   
She sniffed in return.  
He brushed her hand off her shoulder and pressed the panel he had seen Junkrat press to release the arm. Blue lights glowed on the connection plate and lights on the arm responded. He lifted it and blue threads streamed out and connected the two together, bringing them together with a quiet click. That was a lot easier than Junkrat’s; He usually had to get out a hammer to get the joint to connect.   
He sighed and leaned back on his arms. They both looked out over the valley below, there was a river that was too far to do his poor farm any good.   
“Thank you.” She said quietly.   
He grunted in return.   
“How did you know how to reconnect it?”  
“Helped Junk out plenty.”  
They sat quietly for a few long moments. Roadhog had always been comfortable with silence, she seemed to be amiable to not talking as well, it was a nice change from Junkrat, who never shut up.   
“Why do you have women’s boots?” She asked.  
He looked at her without moving his head, the way she said that, she knew something. How could she know? Ah, the picture he kept in his room, she had seen it when she had changed. Assuming that, she had probably noticed the graves outside the window.   
“Nosey little bitch, ain’t ya?” He said without rancor.   
Instead of looking embarrassed or confused, she smiled and glanced at him; she knew how he knew, a smart one. Junk was going to have his work cut out for him with her.   
“We all have shit we don’t like to think about, shove it to the back and lock it tight. Never easy when someone shoves it in your face. Don’t let it cripple ya, Junkrat will do that for ya.”  
She chuckled quietly.  
He stood up with a groan, damn that got harder every time. “Right, I’m gonna send the wanker out here to apologize, try not to kill him.”  
“May I ask one thing?”   
He stopped dusting himself off, gave a grunt of consent.  
“Why did you team up with him?”  
He looked back over the desolate valley. “At first, to get back at the world that abandoned us, get some of mine. Then…” He sighed and unscrewed the cap on one of his canisters. “Just couldn’t give up the bugger.” He took a deep breath of the chemicals and felt his lungs loosen. He threw the empty out over the edge of the cliff. “He grows on you like mold.” 

Junkrat wasn’t sure what he expected when Roadhog came back but it wasn’t the giant grabbing him by the pants and scruff and tossing him outside with brief instructions to ‘fix it’.  
He dusted himself off indignantly and stumped off to find Symmetra. He found her sitting by the cliff side. Her hair was loose and blowing in the breeze, she usually had it in a neat circle on her head, what were they called, something food related.  
“This seat taken?” He asked nervously.  
She didn’t respond.   
He noticed one smudge of dirt on her cheek. “You uh, you got something there.” He pointed. “I’d give you a hand, but Roadie already gave it to you.”  
Not even a smile. Maybe this wasn’t the best of time.   
He sighed and slumped forward, twirling the necklace worriedly. This whole heart-to-heart, being nice and gentle with people, it was as uncomfortable as that necktie he had worn for that one bank heist.  
“They said I had to have it if I wanted to be the top of the architects.” She said softly.  
Junkrat froze, if he didn’t move, he couldn’t mess this up.  
“I did not want to, it was so unbalanced, so asymmetrical. But-.” She brushed the hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. “I could not go back, not after everything I had been through to be there.” She brushed a tear from her eye. “I could not go back to living on the streets, not when a chance to perfect the world was in my grasp.”  
Junkrat raised one eyebrow. Living on the streets?  
“I suppose I never truly faced what I did, avoided thinking about it as more than a covering.”  
“Everyone lies to themselves.” Junkrat repeated what Roadhog had said, it sounded like it fit.   
“Yes, they do.” She rested her chin on her arms.   
He leaned back, bracing his arms behind him and looking up at the sun. “I ever tell you how I got my tattoo?”  
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “No.”  
“Well, back in the day, there was this tattoo place in Junkertown, think it’s still there. Anyways I walk in one day, sit down in the chair, point to the meanest looking tattoo on the wall and said, ‘give me that one!’.”  
She raised an eyebrow. “And?”  
“And then I got it.”  
She smacked him lightly on the arm. “That’s a terrible story.”  
“Yeah, but I’m pretty terrible to begin with.”  
That got a small chuckle out of her, he grinned.   
“I tell you how I lost me arm?”  
“You did.”  
He flexed his metal hand. “Then you know I did it on a selfish whim.”  
“I still can’t believe you took off your entire hand to reach some wires.”  
He cocked his head towards her and raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you do the same thing?”  
“No!” Then she looked at her while metal hand. “I suppose if you look at it in the very base sense, it could be similar.” That didn’t make her happy, aw crap, change course!  
“Anyways, sounds to me like you gave up something to try to help others.”  
She looked back down. “I gave away part of myself to a company that abused my intent. They turned my vision into a way to exploit those in need.”  
“We’ve all had bad bosses and jobs, Don’t get me started on this one guy in London.” He flapped a hand airily. “But you said you wanted to make the world better, right? And you sacrificed part of yourself to make that happen, sounds pretty noble and good guy-ish to me.”  
She smiled into her arms. “Did you get that out of one of your comic books?”  
“Well yeah, but they have some good morals and stuff too!” He huffed indignantly.   
She laughed lightly.  
“And well, you’re still trying. You’re with Overwatch now, they seem to have pretty good intentions, probably can help you with that whole saving-the-world thing.”  
She picked her head up and gathered her hair, pulling it over one shoulder. “Perhaps.”   
She finally turned to face him. “What are you doing in Overwatch?”  
“Me? Um, well.” He let his weight fall onto his hands as he glowered out at the valley below. “Hiding.”  
“Hiding?”  
“We got into a bit of trouble with the Junker Queen and well, we’re wanted all over the bloody globe. Overwatch is one of the last places we can be, for now.”  
“For now?”  
“Is there an echo out here?” He looked around for it; that got another laugh.   
“Well, who knows how long they’ll put up with us, or how long it will be till I get bored. The good guys don’t let you blow up as many things as the bad guys.” He pouted. “Maybe I should have helped out that blue woman and gone with Talon.”  
Symmetra brushed dust off her legs. “Who knows, there may come a day when exploding something is just what someone needs to save them.”  
“Yeah?”  
“I’ll let you know if I see such a situation.” She smiled at him, he liked that, it softened all the harsh lines around her face.   
She turned to face him, looking at his eyes intently in a way that made him uncomfortable and not wanting it to stop.   
“I think you are in Overwatch for more.”  
“Oh yeah? Care to enlighten me?” He snorted.  
She shook her head thoughtfully. “I’m not sure, but I think it will become clear.”  
He stood up with a creak. “Let me know when that happens.” He muttered.   
“Well, all that to say, sorry for talking your arm off.”  
She nodded. “Apology accepted.”  
He held out a hand to help her up. She took it but instead of using his weight to bring herself up, she leaned back and kicked out at his pegleg. He landed on his back with a shout.   
She stood up and leaned over him, her hands on her knees. “That is for ripping off my arm, Buffoon.” She flicked the end of his long nose and grinned slyly. She waved and walked back to the farm.   
Junkrat lay on the ground watching her walk away with a sassy sway. He knew he had a dumb grin on his face, but he couldn’t help it, he was really starting to like that woman.


	8. 8

“No.”  
“Aw, com’on!”  
“There is no room.”  
“There’s a bit of room, there’s no room behind Roadie, is what you mean.”  
“You cannot expect me to sit practically in your lap for half an hour!”  
“Would you rather walk for two hours?”  
Symmetra felt the headache throb in her temple. The two junkers were sitting on the motorbike in the yard, waiting for her. Junkrat was squeezed into the sidecar and Roadhog indeed took up the entirety of the bike seat. She eyed the small bit of space in the side car deemed ‘hers’; she didn’t like it.  
“It was your idea to come along, you can stay here.” Junkrat snorted.  
She growled quietly in frustration, the bike was so lopsided, the sidecar so rickety, it screamed to be smoother, sleeker, more roomy.   
“We ain’t got all day!” Junkrat yelled.  
She brushed a hand along the long braid her hair was in and counted to ten with deep breaths, then stepped up to the bike.  
“That’s a girl!” Junkrat grinned.   
She shot him a glare. “Do not call me that.” She lifted a foot and frowned. “How exactly am I supposed to enter..”  
She yelped with surprise as Junkrat unceremoniously lifted her up over the lip of the sidecar and into the space between his legs.   
“Righto!” He pointed a finger forwards. “Onward!”  
Before she could protest, Roadhog kicked the bike into gear and they were roaring away from the farm and across the outback.

Symmetra’s teeth rattled in her head, her eyes streamed tears, she was sure there would be ten indents on the lip of the sidecar where her fingers were.   
“Hang on!” Roadhog yelled as he directed the bike at a small jump over a dried up creek bed.   
Symmetra didn’t have time to scream or brace herself before the bike flew over and landed with a bone-jarring thud. She felt her body take flight as she lifted from the seat.   
“Woah there!” Junkrat’s arms caught her and yanked her back down. He pulled her closer and locked his arms around her waist. “Watch it, Roadie! We need her in one piece!”  
Symmetra felt all the good work her meditation session had done, unravel and disappear. Her nails dug into Junkrat’s arms as she scrambled for an anchor.  
She hated it, she hated this bike, she hated that fat man who was laughing uproariously, she hated the smell of gasoline, she hated the roar of the engine, but most of all, she hated that she didn’t mind Junkrat holding her so close she could hear his breath in her ear. She wasn’t sure how much of her would be left if she had to endure this for twenty more minutes. 

“You didn’t have to take the dry creek run, you sadist.” Junkrat complained to Roadhog as he examined the red half moons indented on his arms. “Pretty sure she gave me some new tattoos.”  
Symmetra was leaning against a tree, she had thrown up. All of her nerves still jangled and her mind was whirling with the echoes of the roaring engine.   
Roadhog leaned over to Junkrat. “You’re welcome.”  
Junkrat punched him on the arm.   
Symmetra closed her eyes and brought up all the images she could think to calm herself, The statue in Nepal, the river in Oasis, the sweep of the hardlight threads as she created lotus flowers, Junkrat on the cliffside. Her eyes snapped open, what was that image doing in her calming folder?  
She leaned her forehead on the tree. She really missed being a lone agent.   
A door creaked open ahead of her. She looked up for the first time and took in the surroundings. They were at the edge of some sort of settlement in front of a house. Standing in the doorway was an old man looking at her with wary confusion. “What are you doing here?” He called.  
Junkrat walked up next to her and the man’s face lit up when he caught sight of him. “Jamie! You wombat, get in here!” The man moved to wave them all into the house.   
Roadhog leaned against the bike. “Let me know when you’re done.” He pulled out a book and began to flip pages.   
Junkrat put a hand on Symmetra’s back. “Com’ on.”   
“Jamie?” She asked quietly.  
“You start calling me, that I’ll start calling you Satya-ya.” He muttered out of the side of his mouth.   
The inside of the house was surprisingly homey, it had the decor of an older world farmhouse with a junker flare thrown on top. The old man was pouring water into a kettle. He looked up as Junkrat closed the door behind them.   
“What happened to your hair?”  
Junkrat scowled and ran his hand over the short hair.   
The old man chuckled. “Aw, don’t make that face, it looks nice, like you actually grew up.”  
“Shut it, Terry.” Junkrat shoved his hands in his pockets and pouted.   
Terry laughed. “Maybe not.” He winked at Symmetra. “Who’s this lovely breath of fresh air?”  
“This is Sym.” Junkrat nodded her to a chair at the table and she cautiously sat on the edge. “We’re working on a project together.”  
“Not like that treasure-laden explosion you made last time, I hope.” Terry set the kettle on the stove and gave Junkrat a look. “Queen’s still right mad about that.”  
Junkrat shrugged. “Naw, no explosives this time.”   
Terry held a hand to his chest in mock surprise. “No explosives? Who are you and what did you do with the pyromaniac?”  
“Har, Har. We need to get in and out of Junkertown quiet-like. Thought maybe we could use the roof-access hatches.”  
Symmetra looked at Junkrat in alarm, he was giving away knowledge that could jeopardize the mission! How did they know that this Terry could be trusted?  
Terry pulled down three mugs. “Ah, and you came to an old man who knows where those are?”  
“I also wanted to look through your scrap pile, need to make some modifications to the bike.”  
Terry raised his eyebrows. “Oh? And would you like a new kidney while you’re at it? Perhaps a pint of blood?”  
“Naw, you know you’re B positive and I’m A positive.” Junkrat waved away the offer.   
Terry crossed his arms. “You don’t get something for nothing, welp.”  
Junkrat grinned. “Oh, don’t worry about that, tell me, Terry, old dear, what’s that one thing you’re always going on about wanting?”  
Terry frowned. “Are you talking about that teacup of mine that you used for an experiment and blew to bits? My one bloody teacup?”  
Junkrat waved a hand. “Circumstances aside, you lost it.”  
“You broke it.”  
“She can make one.” Junkrat placed a hand on Symmetra’s shoulder which she flicked off casually.   
Symmetra was starting to see the picture here. “She needs a reference of what she is supposed to be making.” She added.   
Terry scratched his stubble beard, looking her over. “You a blacksmith or something?”  
She scoffed. “Hardly anything that base.” She looked over at Junkrat. “He can be trusted?”  
Junkrat nodded. “Yeah, Terry here’s been a mate of mine since I was little. He’d do anything to help me, right Terry?”  
“Don’t flatter yourself, welp.” Terry grunted. “But anything that fucks with Junkertown and the Queen is fine by me, don’t have to worry about snitches.”  
Symmetra rubbed her prosthetic arm with it’s new additions of leather and metal coverings that was much more junker. “I suppose then, a demonstration.” She lifted her hand and snapped it open, the blue light spilling out of her palm. Terry looked appropriately impressed. She used her other hand to pull the threads and weave them together. Junkrat took a seat next to Terry and rested his head on his hands, watching her with interest. Terry’s eyes were wide and unblinking. She spun the half formed sphere, pulling here, pushing there, adding swirls here and there. Soon, a small and delicate teacup decorated with ocean waves hovered over her hand. With a final twist she pulled the teacup free and placed it on the table.   
“Woah.” The two man said in unison.   
Symmetra smiled and straightened her shoulders, it was always nice to see her art appreciated.   
Terry picked up the tea cup carefully. “Bloody ‘ell. How did you do that?!”  
Symmetra closed down the glove. “Practice and intuition.”  
Terry shook his head. “Looked like magic to me.”  
Junkrat looked equally impressed. “Yeah.”  
“You’ve seen me create before!” Symmetra said.   
“Yeah, but not like that! That was beautiful!”  
Symmetra felt her cheeks heat from the compliment.   
The kettle whistled and Terry stood up. “Well, that show along was worth the information.”  
“Great!” Junkrat stood up. “I’ll be in back with the scrap.”  
“Don’t you want tea?” Terry asked.  
“I’ll get it later.”  
“You’re going to leave me here?” Symmetra protested.  
Junkrat put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. “Don’t worry about Terry, he only bites when he’s hungry.”  
“I heard that.”  
Junkrat winked at her. “You’ll be alright.”  
Before she could argue, his tall frame disappeared through the door.   
“That boy never listens to anyone.” Terry said as he brought a mug full of tea for her and his new teacup for him. “Best let him be, he’s probably itching to get into the scrap.”  
Symmetra looked critically at the teacup. “If you have a specific pattern you wanted I can make another…”  
“Naw, I like this one, got a special memory attached to it now.”  
There was a loud clang and swearing from the back.   
Terry glanced over in the direction then shrugged. “He’ll be fine.”  
“How do you know Junkrat?”  
Terry laughed. “Junkrat, yeah that’s right, he took that name. Well, I knew him since he was little Jamie, skinny ass kid running through the wreckage of Australia.”  
“Are you family?”  
Terry stopped laughing and eyed her carefully. “Family? You don’t know Jamie too well, do you?”  
She felt a stab of insult. “We are work colleagues, we don’t typically discuss personal matters.”  
“That right? Well, feels like something I shouldn’t be discussing with you then.” Terry grunted.   
Symmetra tried to hide the disappointed look. Terry laughed and leaned forward. “But I’m old and I never get visitors as beautiful as you, also, who doesn’t love to gossip.” He winked and took a sip of his tea.   
“I met Jamie back when he was around ten, never could find out his actual age. It was a couple months after shit hit the fan here, the Omnium exploded and the whole world stopped. I had a friend living with me.” He scratched his head. “Forget his name now, anyways, we were prepping ourselves to go to Junktertown for a supplies run, left the house defended with traps like any good Junker. We only got a few hundred yards away when we heard the explosion. We turned around and came back. We found our window trap had been triggered. Blew out the whole window and took the leg off the poor sod who tried to break in.”  
Symmetra’s stomach twisted. “That’s how he lost his leg?”  
Terry nodded. “Poor thing was just trying to survive. He was after our water well. We patched him up and took him into Junkertown for treatment. They gave him the basics and kicked him back out again, there’s not much mercy after the world ends. When I came back into town I found him sleeping on the street corner, barely more than skin and bones.” Terry leaned back and scratched his chest. “He looked up to me with those big gold eyes of his and my poor heart just couldn’t stand it. I took him back home with me. He lived here for a few years and then he just up and disappeared. He would pop up now and again. Help with whatever needed fixing, bring back presents.” Terry smiled. “He never said thanks or nothing, but he never forgot what I did. He may act dumb and crazy, but that boy’s sharp. He remembers things. I told him once I always wanted to see snow.” He gestured to a wall next to them. “He still remembers.”  
Symmetra turned to the wall. Neatly lined up on a shelf were snowglobes. Each one was from a different city. The last one on the line was a golden globe that held the Oasis gardens..   
“Pretty sure he got most of those on his worldwide heist.” Terry chuckled.   
“Surprisingly thoughtful.” Symmetra said with a warm smile.  
“Ain’t he though?” Terry sighed. “Well, what’s this about roof entrances you need?”

By the time Junkrat came back in, they were just finishing up the hologram. He wiped his hands on his stomach, leaving black lines across it. “Ya got everything?”  
Symmetra looked up, eyeing his newest streaks of oil and grease. Surprisingly, it didn’t set off the tick in her eye it usually did, perhaps she was just getting used to it, or maybe it seemed more natural and orderly for him to be disorderly.   
“We did, Terry was more than helpful.”  
She stood up and bowed her head to Terry. “Thank you.”  
Terry waved a hand. “Don’t mention it, sweetheart. It was nice to have someone to talk to besides nuts-for-brains over there.”  
Junkrat stuck out his lower lip. “Love ya too, Mate.”  
Terry laughed and stood up. “Feel free to drop by if you need any more information or scrap.”  
Symmetra stopped as she stood up, the snow globes had caught her eye.   
“I didn’t know to bring a globe, but,” She placed her hands together and closed her eyes, envisioning the shape. She slowly pulled her hands apart, a white snowflake growing between them. She let it hover up above her head for a moment before placing the projector on it and swiping to the side. The snowflake copied into a line of identical flakes, all hanging in the air. She waiting a few seconds and then snapped her finger, the flakes burst into tiny flakes that rained down around them and then disappeared.  
“Ain’t that something!” Terry whispered in awe.  
“Sure is.” Junkrat grinned, not taking his eyes off her.  
As they were leaving, Terry grabbed Junkrat by the arm, keeping him back. Symmetra looked at him suspiciously.   
“Don’t mind us, Luv. He’ll be right out.” Terry smiled disarmingly.   
Symmetra nodded, locked eyes with Junkrat briefly, who nodded, and left. She closed the door behind her and then leaned up against it quietly.   
“What are you thinking, bringing in an outsider?”  
“Wot.. But she’s…”  
“Those spike-jocks in Junkertown will be able to smell her a mile away.”  
“We’re working on getting her to fit in.”  
“Unless you make that goddess five levels uglier, no one will think she’s from these wastelands.”  
There were scuffing sounds as Junkrat moved around. “Well, we can’t go back now, it’s important.”  
“Another petty grudge?”  
Junkrat sighed. “No. We actually….I….joined Overwatch.”  
“That has-been club of heroes?”  
“Yeah, well the has-beens took us in. You know how hard that is these days.”  
“And whose fault is that?”  
“Yeah, yeah, can it, old man.” Junkrat snapped. “Look, trying to do something worthwhile with what’s left of me.”  
Terry muttered something under his breath. “Fine, fine. Just be careful. Hate to see something happen to you.”  
“Aw, you getting sentimental in your old age?”  
“The snowglobe shelf isn’t full yet.”

Symmetra scrambled away from the door as she heard the limping step of Junkrat approach. She tried her best to look casual as he opened the door. He seemed too preoccupied to notice. Roadhog on the other hand whispered when they walked up, “nosey little bitch.”  
She shrugged and smiled with admission.  
Junkrat strapped a huge load of scrap to the far side of the bike in a cargo net. “Right, let’s get going.”  
Symmetra crosses her arms. “Absolutely not! I refuse to ride that monstrosity again, there is a reason wheels are obsolete!”  
Junkrat cackled. “You planning on walking back?”  
“If I must.”  
“It’s almost dark out, you don’t want to be out here after dark.”  
She crossed her arms more firmly.  
“Hog promises to take the road this time.”  
“There’s a road!?” She yelled.  
Roadhog covered a laugh with a cough.  
Junkrat took her hand and pulled her towards the car. “Come on. I’ll hold your hair if you need to puke again."  
As she settled reluctantly into her square inch of space, Junkrat tapped her leg with something.   
“Here, nabbed these from Terry, old fart can’t hear anyways.”  
She took the offered earmuffs. “Thank you.” She looked up at him, touched by the gift.   
“Yeah, well. I know you hate noises like this.”  
Symmetra heard the echo of surprisingly thoughtful.  
“I didn’t-“ she started.  
Roadhog groaned and kicked the engine to life, cutting off their conversation.   
Symmetra slipped the ear muffs on and the roar of the engine was reduced to a manageable thrum.   
She glanced down at the metal knee that was next to her hip. It wasn’t hard to imagine Junkrat as a skinny kid running around the outback, he was barely more than that now. Imagining him living in the farm house with a caring guardian was harder to imagine. Junkrat slipped his arms protectively around her as Roadhog started down the dirt road. Although, she was starting to notice the product of Terry’s labor of love.


	9. 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NIGHTMARE WARNING....you've been warned.

Why was there always so much blood?  
Junkrat swam through the lake of blood, his pegleg rusted so badly in the iron liquid, it crumpled to dust and melted away. He flounder, unbalanced, choking on the blood as it seeped into his mouth.   
He spat out the crimson water as he reached for any solid ground, his hands only clawed at moving liquid.   
“Can’t get out.” A voice whispered behind him, all around him.   
He spun around trying to find the source, there was nothing except the sea of blood.   
“Here forever, can’t get out, always lost, always broken.” The voice crooned.   
His metal arm broke into shards of rust, Junkrat gasped and kicked furiously with his one leg. Something warm and firm wrapped around his foot and yanked him under the tide.   
Junkrat struggled but he couldn’t break free. A form emerged out of the darkness, it was Sym. Her long black hair floated ethereally in the weightlessness. He tried to call her name but his mouth filled with blood. She floated over and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, her eyes were pure red, blood flowed out of them and filled the ocean. “Can’t be free, can’t have me, can’t fix you, can’t, can’t, can’t.” She chanted. Her arm tightened around his neck and also pulled at his foot, pulling him deeper into the abyss. “Can’t.”

Junkrat sat straight up, trying to get his bearings. He put a hand on his chest, lots of sweat, pounding heart, probably a nightmare again, he usually had one after visiting Terry and that damned house that blew off his leg.  
He slumped forward with a groan and his head hit something soft. He yelped and scrambled backwards on the floor.   
Symmetra was kneeling in front of him, her hand still where his shoulder had been.  
“Bloody ‘ell! You scared me half to death!” He put a hand over his pounding heart.  
“You scared me half to death with your screaming!” She furrowed her eyebrows. “I thought you had chopped your other arm off!”  
Her hair was loose and spilling over her shoulders, brief flashes from the nightmare crossed his mind and he lay back on the concrete floor with a groan, feeling sick. “Just a dream, no biggie.”  
Symmetra wiped the sweat from where his forehead had touched hers. “I see.” She looked at him with clear disbelief.  
“What time is it?” He rubbed his eyes.  
“Five past three in the morning.”  
Junkrat huffed in annoyance, probably wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, he rolled over and sat up. “I’ll be outside.” He muttered as he limped over to the door. 

Junkrat leaned on the porch post, took a deep breath and coughed on the dry air. Ugh. He unscrewed the cap on his flask and took a swig. The nightmares weren’t out of place, but having Symmetra in them somehow made it more terrifying. Usually it was just the dead who haunted him, but this was someone still alive whom he could still lose.   
“A little early to be drinking, isn’t it?” Symmetra appeared out of the doorway and quietly sat on the porch step next to him.  
“Lots of people drink at night.” He grumbled.   
“Technically, it’s early morning.” Symmetra replied with a glance at her watch. “All those who wasted their evening drinking have long since been asleep.”  
“Don’t you get tired of correcting people?” He rolled his eyes.  
“Not as much as I am tired of the world needing to be corrected. Such is life.” She said, somewhat annoyed. “While I may desire the world to be perfect, I know that it will always have something in it that will cause imperfections, chaos, a mess.”  
“Oh yeah, what’s that?”  
She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Humans.” She was looking at him pointedly.   
“I feel rather accused.” He said.   
“As you should, you are part of that race.” She said. She looked down at her mismatching hands. “As am I.”  
“So you’ve come to accept chaos as the best part of life?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.   
“Hardly.” She snorted. “Just as a part of life that will always be, unfortunately.”   
“Well, you don’t have to be so down on it, chaos is more fun!” He cackled.   
“I hardly think so.” She said.   
Junkrat glanced up at the stars still shining above. “Commere.” He moved over till his hip was touching hers.   
“Junkrat!” She protested and smacked his arm, but didn’t move away. He ignored the feeble protest and tilted his head up to the sky.  
“Look up there.” He pointed up. “ Look how pretty those are, scattered like embers after an explosion. It wouldn’t look nearly as pretty if they were all in a straight line.”  
She looked up with him quietly for a few long minutes. Junkrat wasn’t paying attention to the stars as much as he was soaking up the closeness to her.   
“I can see your point.” She conceded. “But there is also order. Did you know that the ancient civilizations connected the stars and made pictures and stories out of them?”  
Junkrat squinted at the stars. “I don’t see anything.”  
Symmetra pulled the visor out of her pocket, tapped a few parts and then held it out to him. “Here, put this on.”   
He looked at her in surprise. “Are you sure?”  
“That is why I am offering,” She confirmed.   
He took the visor and slipped it over his eyes. Suddenly he could see more information than he could ever process. It analyzed the distances to objects, the make of different items, the temperature, the wind, his own heartbeat. He yanked them off. “How the fuck do you see anything in these?!” He gasped.   
“What?”  
“There’s way too much information overloading my poor crippled brain.” He complained.   
She took them back, tapped a few more times and then handed it back. “That should be easier for you.”  
He cautiously put it on, this time it was clear of information.   
“Now.” She took his metal hand in her metal one. “Watch.” She started drawing in the sky with her gauntlet, connecting stars with lines, filling in details that were not there.   
Junkrat chanced a side look at her, she was practically flush with him. He was glad the visor didn’t see his heartbeat anymore, it might have set off an alarm. It was also amazing to realise that she couldn’t see the connections she was making.   
“There.” She put their hands down. “That is the constellation Scorpio, the scorpion.”   
He squinted. “It looks like Roadie’s hook.”   
“Yes, perhaps, but with a little imagination....” She lifted her hand and made a few more lines until a rough scorpion appeared. “It can be more; order made from chaos.”   
“Cool.” He breathed.   
“Indeed.” She took back her visor and slipped it into her pocket.   
He looked back up where she had drawn the constellation, he could still imagine the lines connecting the bright spots.   
“I used to think that life was a balance of good and evil.” Symmetra said softly, looking out over the sky. “But as I have traveled, I have not seen it so. Sometimes there are great evils that are never confronted, greed and hate gone unchecked. Sometimes there are kind people who are never met with resistance on their mission to help others. I think instead, life is a balance of order and chaos, a dance between the two forces creating the heartbeat of the world.”   
Junkrat smiled. “Rather poetic of you.”  
“I can’t take all the credit. Most of that idea came from a monk I met on my travels, Zenyatta.”  
“Must have been quite the bloke.”  
She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “He is. He is also an omnic.”  
Junkrat’s face fell into a glower.  
“Yes.” Her eyes flicked over his face. “I suspected that would be your reaction.”  
He snorted derisively. “I suppose even a broken clock is right three times a day.”  
It made her eye tick, but she swallowed her correction. She turned her attention to the surrounding area, looking for a change of subject.   
“I cannot imagine growing up in a place like this.”   
Junkrat looked out over the landscape. “Yeah, it was pretty shit.” He took a swig of his canteen. “It had its moments though. Not many adults hand you weapons instead of candy at Halloween.”  
“Halloween?” She tilted her head.  
“It’s a holiday here, you dress up in costumes and go take candy and toys from strangers.”  
“What a strange celebration.”  
“What? You don’t have anything like that in India?”  
“No, but we do have our own holidays.” She smiled wistfully. “There is one you would probably like. You go around town and throw powdered color dye and water at everyone. At the end of the day, everyone is a multi-colored mess.”  
“Sounds like something you would hate.”  
“Yes, and no. There is something beautiful seeing the town uniformly covered in color.”  
“So you grew up on the streets?”  
“What? Who says that?” She looked around suspiciously, suddenly guarded.   
“You did, on the cliff yesterday.”  
She frowned. “I suppose I might have let it slip in a less-guarded moment.”  
“Well come on, out with it then.” He lounged on the steps, head in one hand, waiting expectantly.   
She tightened her lips and looked out over the bare ground. “It is not something I like to discuss, it is unseemly for an architect to come from the streets.”  
“Aw, come on, you already know my tragic backstory.” He muttered somewhat bitterly. “Terry’s such a gossip.”  
“How did you know?”   
“I may be crazy but I’m not deaf.” He sniffed.   
“Sorry.” She looked down, slightly abashed.  
He shrugged and took a sip. “So fair’s fair.” He held the canteen out towards her.  
She eyed it with a mixture of disgust and suspicion before leaning over and sniffing it. “Is that...tea?”  
“Not just tea!” He said with a hint of pride. “Boba tea.”  
She looked at him with her mouth open for a moment before throwing back her head and laughing. Junkrat’s eyes widened, she had never looked so unposh and happy and...pretty.   
“Tea?” She wiped a tear away and held a hand to her ribs. “It is tea? Out of all the things…. Did you know there is a running bet back in Overwatch of what you keep in that?”  
“There is?”  
“Yeah, most of them thought it was things like gasoline, rubbing alcohol, actual alcohol.”  
“Funny.” He cackled. “Naw, I just like boba tea.”  
“It is very off-brand for you.”  
“What, crazy pyromaniacs can’t like tea?” He nudged her with his shoulder. “You’re getting off topic.”  
She let out a long sigh and composed herself. “You insist on knowing?”  
“Well, insist is a strong word, but I like strong stuff.”  
She hesitated and then took the canteen from him. He tried not to concentrate on the brush of her fingers on his. She scrubbed at the canteen mouth for a moment before lifting it up and taking a small, dainty sip.   
“It could do with less clove.”  
“I like clove! It’s relaxing and painful at the same time.”  
She smiled. “An interesting description.”  
“So India?”  
She sighed and rested her hands in her lap. “I grew up in a no name town in the middle of India. The landscape looked much like it does here, dry and arid. It was just my mother and I. She worked what jobs she could find, which was not much. She taught me how to earn money on the streets.”  
“You were a beggar?”  
“Hardly!” She sniffed and tossed her hair. “I danced on the street corners, carved animals out of soapstone, wove baskets out of reeds, anything I could get my hands on.”  
She put her head in her hands. “That was the first thirteen years of my life, scraping by day to day. My fortunes changed when a Viskar scout broke down in our town and he happened to see my carvings and basket weaving. He was impressed at the detail and quality for such cheap materials. He took me in for testing for Viskar….” She took a sip of the tea. “And the rest is history.”  
“You liked your job?”  
“I did.”  
“Then why’d you leave?” Junkrat asked.  
Symmetra frowned and put down the canteen. “Wanshi.”  
“What she?”  
“Wanshi. It is the name of a small town in China.” She opened a holographic display and began tapping into the files.  
“My last project at Viskar was to build the model for a town that had been destroyed in a landslide named Wanshi. I spent three months researching the area, the locals, the economy, finding out what would make their lives easier, streamlined, efficient. I even learned some Chinese.”  
She opened her hand and a huge blue hologram popped up of a town, Junkrat leaned in to study it. It looked like a rural village until you looked closer, the edges were smoother, the streets neater, the buildings in a pleasing arch. It looked like a perfect little model village.   
“Looks nice.” He looked up at her. “So you didn’t get to build it?”  
Symmetra looked sadly at the little town. “It was built in a month, thanks to the hardlight technology. I was so excited to see it, my own little village, perfection made real. I spent my vacation days I never used and bought a ticket to China. When I arrived, I found my perfect village, just as I imagined.”  
Junkrat scrunched up his forehead. “Soooo?”  
“It was empty, abandoned. Viskar used their ownership to raise the prices of the homes so the villagers could not afford to stay there. They decided instead to rent it out as a high-end meditation retreat.”  
She closed her hand with an angry snap. “I was so angry and confused, I went back and confronted my supervisor, Sanjay, about it. He just gave me a long sad look and told me I had two choices if I stayed: let my heart grow hard or watch it break. He gave me my equipment, covered my departure under bureaucratic red-tape, and sent me to Overwatch.”  
She turned her head to him, putting her face in her hand. “That is why I left.”  
“Huh.” He twiddled his fingers awkwardly, not much you can say about that.  
“We could always go visit Viskar together. You design the gift wrapping, I design a cake to die for.” He nudged her.   
She smiled wanly. “I appreciate the thought, but I think our talents are better used elsewhere, less lawsuit-worthy.”  
“Speaking of which, I had an idea.” Junkrat rubbed his hands together.  
“Oh? This should be good.”  
“It is! The mech battle is during two days starting tomorrow. We should go in on day one to get the lay of the land, make sure there’s no variables, get a feel for it. Day two, we spring the agent.”  
Symmetra straightened up and looked him over. “What is this? Planning? Double checking? If you take a shower, I might swoon.”  
He winked and took a swig of tea. “Well, when my monthly bathnight comes, I’ll be sure to wear my least-burned shorts.”


	10. 10

“Naw, still not junker enough.” Junkrat screwed up his face in concentration. “It’s too clean and neat.”  
Roadhog rummaged around in a closet and pulled up an old cowboy hat with one side pinned up, he plunked it on Symmetra’s head, her eyes disappeared.   
She took it off and dusted it. “It could use a cleaning.”  
“No, no, no!” Junkrat snatched it away before she could clean it further. “That’s the point, remember?!”  
It was two days later, they had spent the previous day honing the plan and adding a sidecar to the motorbike. The plan was to park the motorbike some distance from the city, scattered among the other junker vehicles. Symmetra would pick a spot next to the motorbike to use as the teleported landing spot so she could have it memorized. They would then enter the city and do a dry run of the path to the jail and the exit. But first, they had to perfect her disguise.   
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I do not like this, but I suppose it is necessary.” She took her long braid and wrapped it around her head and pinned it in place, she put the hat back on and it rested comfortably now.   
“Perfect!” Junkrat said. “You’re almost ready for Junkertown, there’s just one intsy, tiny detail left.”  
Symmetra raised an eyebrow.   
“You’re too clean.”  
She crossed her arms. “What do you expect me to do? Roll around in the dirt? That is not going to happen.”  
Junkrat and Roadhog exchanged wicked grins. “Well………”

“Jamison Fawks! You let me go, this instance!” Symmetra screamed and tried to disentangle herself from his arms.   
“Sorry, Sym, it’s for your own good!” Junkrat said with far too much glee as carried her down the front step precariously balancing himself and a struggling Symmetra.   
“I absolutely refuse to-” She never got to finish as Junkrat hurled himself and her down into the yard.  
She shrieked and clawed at his flesh arm, trying to find a purchase, he was surprisingly strong. “Jamison!!” She spit out some dirt as he rolled the two of them together through the dirt yard. Yelling wasn’t much use, he was too busy laughing uproariously to hear her.   
He hooked a leg around hers and flipped her over so her face was pushed into the dirt.  
She felt a surge of anger and used it to flip her hand over so her palm was on his arm. She concentrated and pushed out a myriad of tiny spikes into his arm. He yelped and released her. She rolled over and came up into a crouch. She spit out the dirt and cleared it from her visor’s front. “You will pay for that.”  
He grinned and rolled to face her. “I’d like to see you try.”  
Symmetra lunged toward him and at the last moment slid down on the ground and tackled his pegleg. Junkrat yelped and landed flat on his back, He reached out a quick hand and managed to grab her foot. She pulled herself into a ball and then lashed out with her free leg at his stomach. He gasped from the impact and loosened his grip. Symmetra took the opportunity to grab his prosthetic arm and wrap her body around it and lean back, forcing it out straight.  
“Didn’t take you for a wrestler.” Junkrat panted.   
“I pick up on things.” She gasped, out of breath.   
“Well, I drop some things.” He grinned and slammed his free hand on the release lever on his elbow. His prosthetic dropped free and he wiggled out of her grip. She was so surprised she didn’t have time to recover before he had her in a half-nelson.   
“I give.” She gasped.   
He let her go with a groan. “Great way to start the day, some competitive stretching.” He leaned over and slapped her on the back. “And it did the trick!” He picked up the discarded hat and put it on her head. “You look like a proper junker.”   
Symmetra frowned and put a hand to her face. “It is that bad?”  
Junkrat reattached his arms and flexed the fingers. “Do yourself a favor and avoid mirrors till the mission is over.”  
“You two done yet?” Roadhog asked from his porch seat where he flipped pages in his book.   
Junkrat stood up with a spring and leaned down to give Symmetra a hand up. “I think she is.”

Symmetra looked up at the tall walls of Junkertown, the rusted iron sheets screwed in haphazardly to create a barrier filled her with more dread than the neat, clean lines and arches of the Oasis city walls.   
Junkrat leaned over to whisper. “Couldn’t hop these on a concussion mine.”   
She nodded absently as her eyes flicked from one feature of the walls to another.   
Roadhog parked the bike next to a broken down van on a more precarious edge of the parking area, to discourage anyone from parking their vehicles nearby, in order to leave room for the teleporter. Then they started the walk to the settlement.   
Someone jostled her on the right side; she bit her lip and breathed out her frustration. They were walking into the open city gates in a large crown of Junkers. Roadhog had disguised himself with an old fishing hat and a bedsheet-sized poncho, he assured Symmetra the mask wouldn’t be out of place, and looking around at the crowd, he was right. Junkrat had changed up his prosthetics with bits of metals and leather to look slightly different, had a leather vest on under his harness which was free of grenades (at Symmetra’s insistence), and a tattered baseball cap on that Roadhog had dug out of the closet.   
“Remember, inconspicuous.” Junkrat whispered in a conspicuous tone.  
“Noted.” Symmetra replied dryly. She watched the city guards out of the corner of her eye as she passed through, they were watching the crowd but didn’t seem to take any note of them. She breathed easier once the flow of people they were in were out of sight of the gates.   
“Ah Junkertown!” Junkrat breathed in, filling his lungs. “The smell of fried food, oil, and rust, I love it!”  
Symmetra eyed a restaurant open on the street that had a long line waiting for it. The mascot was a koala holding chopsticks and steamed buns, probably an Australian-Chinese fusion restaurant; the smell coming from it wasn’t entirely displeasing.   
“This way.” Junkrat took her by the elbow and led her away from the restaurant and continued along the roadway to an enormous building that was easily 5 stories high.   
Instead of entering the towering building that bore the banner of “Scrapyard”, the crowd was queuing to enter a doorway to the right of the grand entrance way. Following the surge of the crowd, Symmetra allowed herself to be gently pushed past faded banners of previous scrapper champions and down a dimly lit flight of stairs. The first flight of stairs ended in the cramped bar where the crowd parted to the left and right where the blinking neon arrows indicated more staircases continuing further down. Symmetra followed Roadhog’s bulk toward the right as they continued downward and the volume of the music increased as the stairway opened up suddenly into a massive cavernous room.  
“Welcome to the Scrapyard!” Junkrat grinned and guestered to the door.  
It took a while for Symmetra’s eyes to adjust to the dim light, once she did, it was a sight out of any world she knew. (At this time, you should go open AC/DC’s Thunderstruck)  
THUNDER!  
There were colored strobe lights flashing and spinning around the arena. Fog machines hissed and spilled white vapor over the ground. Junkers were seated all around the edge in raised bleachers that shook with the pounding of their feet.   
THUNDER!  
The music pounding out of the plethora of speakers strapped to poles, overhead lights, and any other surface the designers could find. If she didn’t have the earmuffs on, she was pretty sure her ears would be bleeding.  
THUNDER!  
Symmetra grabbed Junkrat and pulled him down to yell in his ear. “How are we supposed to communicate with this racket?”  
He yelled back. “This is AD/DC, not racket!” He managed to work an offended tone into his shout. “Junkers have a thing for 80s rock.”  
THUNDER!  
Symmetra’s visor informed her this song came out in 1990 but she held her correction.   
Roadhog led the way through the junkers towards the back of the stadium, his body cutting a wide swath in the crowd, Junkrat grabbed Symmetra’s hand as she threatened to be lost in the crowd that swallowed her and dragged her along in his wake.   
THUNDER!  
They were almost to the very back when the speakers cut out with a squeal. Suddenly all the strobe lights blinked off and the whole stadium fell into darkness.   
“What’s happening?” Symmetra asked.  
Junkrat curled his lip. “The Queen.”  
A spotlight flared on and illuminated the middle of the arena, it followed a small platform as it was lowered from the ceiling. Standing on it, surrounded by fog and lights was a woman. She had a microphone in one hand and a deadly-looking battleaxe in the other. Her hair was buzzed on the sides and a long blue mohawk in the middle. Even from a distance her face covered in red warpaint looked fierce, her eyes shone a deadly light. Symmetra was far away but she could feel a presence to be feared.   
The queen raised the microphone and all the junkers fell silent.   
“Listen up, you wretched scum!” Her voice was distinctly Australian and hard. The Junkers roared their approval.  
“I see your struggles, trying to survive in the wasteland. It’s time to face the facts, the end of the world has come and gone.”  
She lowered her voice. “Your past lives are a dream.” Roadhog huffed and crossed his arms.   
The queen scanned the crowd and then raised her voice. “It’s time you woke up! They thought they could take our land and give it to the machines?” Boos echoed off the walls as the Junkers responded.   
“They were wrong!” The crowd roared and stomped their feet.   
“We won the war! And now we reap the spoils. We built a new world from the ashes.”  
She grabbed a chain hanging from the ceiling and jumped off the platform. The chain hissed as she slid down it and landed on the arena floor with a thud. “So step into the scrapyard!”  
The roar of the crowd rattled the walls and shook dust from the ceiling. Symmetra pressed the earmuffs closer to her ears as the Queen raised her arms, egging on the crowd.  
“No rules! No mercy! Only the strong survive!”  
She brought the microphone close to her mouth. “This is your queen. Welcome to the apocalypse! Welcome to the scrapyard!”  
YOU’VE BEEN THUNDERSTRUCK!  
The music blasted back in as the platform ascended and she grabbed the chain as it lifted her up and out of sight again.  
“I’ll give her one thing.” Symmetra leaned over to Junkrat. “She knows stage presence like no one I’ve seen before.”  
Bars across entrance ways in the arena opened with a clang and mechs suddenly charged into the arena as the pilots warmed up their machines.  
Symmetra was momentarily distracted from the mission at hand by the mechs. Between her visor and her own engineering know-how, she could see some fascinating mechanical feats that made the machines move and fight. The one that interested her the most was a round mech that had spider-like legs that it skittered around on, it wasn’t like any of the other mechs.   
The music changed and the announcer called the first two combatants. The mechs all made their way back into the alcoves except two. One that looked like a huge wheel with arms and another that looked familiar. Symmetra squinted at it. “Is that-“   
“D.Va! D.Va! D.Va!” The crowd chanted. The mech opened and a tiny girl popped out to blow kisses to her adoring crowd. The Korean Mecha star was famous even here. She was dressed like a junker and her signature pink mech was brown and outfitted with all things junker.  
“She’s gonna wipe the floor with him.” Roadhog laughed.  
Symmetra suddenly remembered they were not there for the tournament. “We cannot stay to find out. Let us go.” 

The trio made their way back towards the bar, which was emptier now that the entertainment had started. They were headed for the door to the outside when Junkrat bumped roughly into someone.   
“Watch it!” He snapped.  
The person only growled in return and kept walking away.  
Junkrat stopped in his tracks and turned sheet white.  
Symmetra looked back at the other man but she couldn’t make anything out besides a dark. long coat.   
“Junkrat?”  
Wordlessly, Junkrat pushed her urgently up the stairs and into the heat of the Australian sun, Roadhog trailing wordlessly behind. Glancing about, Junkrat led them up one more flight of stairs and behind a faded looking billboard mounted into the handrail of the second floor walkway. Out of sight of the lingering spectators ordering food or pushing their way toward the arena, he turned wide eyed to Symmetra and Roadhog.  
“That was Reaper.”  
She felt her hands and feet go cold. “One of the heads of Talon, Reaper?”  
He nodded. “Recognize him from Numbani.”   
Symmetra tightened her lips and closed her eyes, processing this turn of events; Talon was already here.   
She opened her eyes and looked at the two junkers. “This is not a dry run anymore, we are doing this now!”  
Symmetra pulled out her photon projector from its hiding place in her leg chaps. “If everyone performs their function, victory is assured.”  
Junkrat shrugged and grinned. “It’s a perfect day for some mayhem.”  
The clang and boom of metal mechs far below them echoed the sentiment.   
Symmetra looked at Roadhog. “You think you can handle Talon if they get in the way?”  
He chuckled darkly. “I’m a one-man apocalypse.”  
She turned to Junkrat. “Where are your grenades and mines?”  
Junkrat looked supremely shifty. “You said to leave them behind today.”  
“Junkrat, where are they?”  
“My commanding officer said to-“  
“We do not have time for this!” She snapped.  
Junkrat held out a hand to Roadhog who produced two bandoliers of grenades and a satchel full of mines from under his poncho.  
“I’m not that predictable.” Junkrat pouted as he strapped them on. He raised his peg leg and tapped the knee, his detonator fell out of a compartment in his shin. “Thinks she’s so smart.”  
Symmetra tapped her visor and brought up the map in the corner of her vision. “First, we must get by the guards at the start of the compound.”  
She flipped the switch on her projector and a ball of blue energy grew in its mandibles. “Ready?”  
They nodded and Junkrat suppressed a squeal of delight.   
“Let us go.”

They went down the stairs to the upper section of the scrapyard. The whole building was bisected horizontally. Below the ground was the scrapyard arena and the spectators, above was the manticence for the arena and the queen’s compound. Symmetra had studied the map much the previous few days. The whole area was roughly round with a huge turbine with rotating blades high above the floor right in the center. Hallways and rooms branched out from the main hallway which curved in a ‘u’ around the turbine. (See point c Junkertown).   
Halfway down the stairs, she spotted a guard in a folding chair with his legs up on an old oil can. He was half paying attention to the match on a tiny television set and half sleeping.   
“Guard.” She whispered behind her. “He is blocking the stairs up to the turbine and the main hallway.”  
“Just one?” Junkrat asked.  
“Yes.”  
Junkrat looked back at Roadhog and the two nodded. Junkrat gently put an arm out and pushed Symmetra against the wall giving Roadhog a clear shot down the stairs.   
Roadhog took three steps down so he could see the guard, unfortunately they were three rather loud and echoing steps.   
The guard snapped out of his doze and leaned over to check the stairs. “Chet?”  
Roadhog took one more step. “Nope.” He answered as he threw his hook, neatly grabbing the guard out of the chair and yanking him into Junkrat’s waiting arms. With one swift and cruel twist, the guard’s body slumped lifeless to the ground.  
Symmetra gasped and took a step back. “You did not need to kill him!”  
“And wot? Have him wake up and go tell his buddies we’re visiting?” Junkrat asked as he dragged the body behind some piled junk and covered it with a tarp. “This is Junkertown, Sym. It’s kill or be killed and you said we had to do this quickly.” He started walking down the stairs again. “Killing is quick, mercy is slow.”  
Symmetra frowned and took three deep breaths before proceeding. She did not like it, but he was right. 

The room was massive, and the turning turbine in the center equally so. Symmeta watched it slowly rotate, feeling slight gusts of wind off of it.  
“What is the purpose of that machine?” She asked Junkrat.  
“Bringing air in and out of the arena, lots of mouthbreathers crowded down there with carbon monoxide from the mechs.”  
The two of them leaned around the wall, scanning the area. On the far side of the curve was a room with a huge glass window. Inside was a group of guards watching the match on a slightly larger television, they were making a decent amount of noise. There was a staircase up to the turbine’s flat blades and then straight ahead there was a short dip under the turbine that looked like a shortcut to the compound.   
“Hey! That looks promising!” Junkrat whispered and pointed to the shortcut. “Would take us past those guards too.”  
“I would not recommend it.” Symmetra cautioned.   
“Why?”  
A pile of metal scraps were dumped from one side and a metal plate shot out from the other wall to flatten it.   
“Trash compactor.” Symmetra answered. “ We should take the second floor instead. We can use the turbine blades to make our way around the guards.” She pointed to the stairway to their right and began to climb up.   
The slow blades of the turbine spun around and around, just barely missing where the walkway from the stairs ended.   
“We can jump if we time it right.” Junkrat whispered.  
“If we miss, we will be caught.” Symmetra whispered back. “Also, look.” She pointed to a small platform across from the turbine blades that had a guard sitting on a stool.  
“How did he even get up there?!” Junkrat scratched his head. “You would need a grappling hook or something.”  
“If we stay behind the column and remain quiet, we should be able to slip by.” She pulled threads apart in her hands and wove a quick and steady teleporter. She spun her arms and a teleporter blinked into existence just behind the turbine column, just where the guards couldn’t see it.   
“I have opened the path.” Symmetra nodded and walked through, followed by the junkers. The platform was crowded with the three of them on it.   
“Think skinny thoughts, Mate. Those guards can see your gut sticking out!” Junkrat muttered to Roadhog.   
“I can toss you in that trash compactor to make more room.” Roadhog growled.  
“Shhh.” Symmetra shushed.Thankfully the hum of the turbine seemed to be loud enough to cover their noise. She quietly collapsed the teleporter and began to weave another.   
Junkrat shifted to make room for the teleporter pad, his peg leg slipped on the metal surface and he windmilled his arms trying not to fall. Roadhog reached out and grabbed his harness, pulling him back. Unfortunately, the flailing limbs caught the eye of the guard. He craned his neck to the side and stood up.   
“Help!” Junkrat whispered to Symmetra who was still concentrating on her teleporter. With two movements she dispersed her threads, pulled her proton projector from her side and fired off the pre-charged orb of energy. It was slow, but the confused guard didn’t have the reflexes to dodge. The ball hit him in the chest and he stopped dead where he was and slumped forward.   
“He’s gonna fall off!” Junkrat’s voice cracked with the forced whisper.   
Roadhog spun his hook but Symmetra was faster. She twisted her hands together, pulled them apart and a blue rectangle net shot out of her hands and across the gap. She caught the guard mid-fall in the net and gently placed his body back on the ledge.  
“That was awesome!” Junkrat grinned at her.  
Symmetra was already busy making her new teleporter.   
She was about to place it in a lower room when a guard came out of a door near the back. He yawned and headed to a bar area. He filled a coffee pot with water and started the process of coffee making.  
“He’s gonna take forever!” Junkrat hissed.   
“Can you be swift and silent?” Symmetra asked Junkrat.  
He saluted. “Like a fart!”  
Roadhog guffawed quietly but Symmetra frowned. “That is not encouraging.”  
Junkrat cracked his knuckles. “Get me over there, I’ll get him.”  
Symmetra held the ready teleporter in her hands. “On three. One, two, three!”  
She opened the teleport and Junkrat leapt through instantly.   
The guard had just pressed the coffee button when a blue light glowed behind him. He didn’t even have time to turn around before a strong metal arm clamped down on his airway.  
Junkrat placed the body behind the bar and waved to the other two. They both came through the teleporter.   
“What are the odds we can finish that coffee?” Roadhog asked.   
“You don’t drink coffee.” Junkrat reminded him.  
“I like the smell.”  
“There is no time!” Symmetra moved over towards the door, barely giving the throne on the platform next to it a glance. It was locked but a quick hard light key forced and shaped in the door had it open quickly.   
They passed by a huge, empty room that had several doors on all sides.   
“Used to be a treasure room.” Junkrat told her. “Before we got to it.” He lifted a fist and Roadhog gave him a fist bump.  
Symmetra pointed to a door on the right. “This way.”  
They walked as quietly as possible through the metal hallway, Symmetra winced with every clanky step of her companions.   
They arrived at the red dot on the map that marked the jail cells. Symmetra put an ear to the door. “It sounds like there are some guards in there.” She jiggled the door handle gently. “And this is locked.”  
She formed her hard light key but Junkrat brushed her aside. “There’s no one back here but them. Let the rest of us have some fun too.” He pulled out two concussion bombs and stuck them on the hinge areas.   
“Ready, Mate?”  
Roadhog nodded and positioned himself in the doorway hanging his hook on his belt. Junkrat grinned and pulled out his detonator. “Bombs away!” He blew the door off the hinges and pulled Symmetra to one side.

The prison cell was guarded by two rather bulky guards, both who stood up with guns. Roadhog stepped out into the hallway and cracked his knuckles. “Roadhog time.”  
The two charged him and almost made it halfway before he whipped out his scrap gun, jammed a hopper full of scrap metal into the top and a crack popped out of the side of the gun. He laughed uproariously as the two men were thrown across the room by a spray of metal, leaving them a bloody mess on the farside.   
Roadhog cracked his neck as he put away the gun. “Sit down.”  
Symmetra swallowed hard, she had forgotten once again how ruthless they could be.   
Junkrat slapped Roadhog on the back. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around, and it wasn’t the sparkling conversation.”  
“Do you ever shut up?” Roadhog sighed.   
The door to the prison cell was locked and the key couldn’t be located on the bodies.   
Symmetra stepped up. “Allow me.” She pressed her palm against the door and concentrated, imagining the space of the keyhole being filled with her hardlight. She pressed her ear against the door and closed her eyes, listening to the clicks as the tumblers aligned. She smiled as she heard the solid click of the last one going into place. “Abracadabra.” She turned the handle and opened the door.   
“Your comedic timing needs work.” Junkrat said critically.  
Symmetra gave him a passing glare as they entered the prison.   
Against the far wall was a man with his legs shackled to the floor. His head was lowered and his arms around his knees in a relaxed pose of rest. “Back already, Gabe? I thought-”   
He looked up and stopped. “Well now.” His voice was a warm, American drawl. “You can’t be Talon.” His dark brown eyes sparkled beneath his shaggy hair as he took in the three of them. “They don’t hire anyone near as pretty as you.”   
Symmetra watched dumbfounded as he reached down and casually broke one of the shackles with a mechanical hand.   
He rubbed circulation back into his foot. “Anyone got a cigar on them?”


	11. 11

“You could have broken out this whole time?!” Symmetra asked bewildered.   
Jesse McCree stood up and stretched. He didn’t come close to Junkrat or Roadhog’s height but he carried himself confidently as he strode over to them.   
“Sure I could have broken out, but there’s no place to go out here. Would have died out there in the wasteland without some help.” He slapped Junkrat on the back. “And here’s help now. Thank you all for the rescue.” He smiled at all of them with a wink.   
Junkrat squinted at him, his brain still trying to process this new character, Roadhog just grunted.   
“We should probably be going, no?” McCree slipped by them and headed over to a locker. “Should be right here.” He muttered. He bashed open the door and smiled. “Perfect.” He pulled out a gun belt and a hat. “Mighty accommodating of them to keep it right here.”  
His buckle read BAMF, Symmetra wondered if that was a previous organization he belonged to, perhaps some sort of high honor or medal.   
McCree swept a hand towards the door. “Shall we?”

They tracked part way back through the hallways and then branched off towards the outer wall. McCree whistled as they stepped through the carnage. “Quite the mess you boys left.”  
“All to get your ass out.” Roadhog grunted.  
“And I appreciate it.” McCree replied smoothly.  
“Quiet please.” Symmetra reminded softly.  
“I think quiet went out the door when you pasted those guards against the wall.” McCree said with a shrug.  
Symmetra stopped them halfway down the hall. “Here it is.” She pointed to a square in the ceiling. Junkrat stretched to his full height and grabbed the hatch lock bars, with a grunt and a burst of exertion, the lock squeaked open.   
Symmetra’s stomach dropped as she realized something.   
“We cannot get out that way.” She said numbly, the plan crumbling.   
“Wot?!” Junkrat asked as he pushed the hatch open. “Whatdya mean? I got it open!”  
Symmetra looked over at Roadhog. “You were supposed to be waiting with the bike.”  
McCree looked at them in confusion. “What do you mean, supposed to?”  
Symmetra closed her eyes and concentrated. “Today was going to be a test of the defenses, but then we ran into Reaper and knew we needed to get you out today. Roadhog was not going to be with us because he will not fit. Let me think.”  
McCree and Junkrat looked from Roadhog to the two foot square hatch.   
“Should have stuck with that diet, Mate.” Junkrat leaned over and whispered.  
“Fuck you, Rat.” Roadhog shoved him not too gently against the wall.  
“You’re not my type, too tall.”   
McCree chuckled softly.  
Junkrat tapped his pegleg nervously. “Made a bloody plan for once and it’s all coming to pieces, that’s why I don’t plan in the first place! It’s right on the other side of this fucking wall and we can’t get through!” He kicked the metal wall.  
Symmetra opened her eyes and looked over at Junkrat, he was gnawing his lip raw in agitation, spinning his necklace furiously as he leaned against the wall. The wall. Studying the floor plan schematic in the corner of her visor, she stepped up beside him and pressed her palm against the metal by his head, it was warm to the touch, heated from the blazing sun outside. An exterior wall. She looked at Junkrat, he was trying hard to do things her way, now it was her turn to return the favor.   
She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Junkrat?”  
He looked up.  
“We need a different exit, do you think you could blow up this wall for me?” She smiled at him and nodded her head at the wall.  
The look he gave her was so intense, she took a step back. Junkrat leaned over till his nose touched hers, his eyes were dancing like golden flames, his mouth in a wide smile. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met.” Symmetra felt heat rush to her face and her heart skip a beat, that couldn’t be healthy, perhaps too much adrenaline.  
McCree was watching them with amusement. Roadhog had an air of smugness around him. Junkrat turned in one fluid motion and threw a mine against the wall where it stuck. “Might want to back up a few steps.” He advised with a wink.   
They had only made it back five steps when he blew the wall out anyway. He grinned and brushed rubble off his arms. “I love it when that happens.”  
Symmetra moved to the opening, trying to wave dust out of her vision. “Quickly, they will have heard that!” Her visor zeroed in on the ground she had marked out earlier. She took a deep, calming breath and wove her hands together in the practiced motion. The round platform unfolded and the oval teleporter blinked into existence. “I have opened the path.” Symmetra released the last thread. “Quickly!”  
Roadhog was the closest, and he basically tripped and disappeared through the teleporter. Far away, he appeared out a small oval near the bike, he waved the all clear. McCree tipped his hat and stepped through.   
“Now, Junkrat!”  
Just as he was putting a foot into the blue, a loud shot rang in the hallway.   
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” A voice growled. Reaper appeared out of the shadows.  
“You didn’t think a few costume changes would mean I wouldn’t recognize you, did you?” Reaper snorted derisively. “I still owe you for what you did in Numbani.” He looked at Symmetra, a shiver went down her spine. “And you for letting my prisoner out, it seems.”  
He disappeared and reappeared between them, moving into the teleporter. Junkrat locked eyes with Symmetra and nodded, moving his foot away from the teleporter. Symmetra didn’t hesitate, she slammed her hands together and the teleporter blinked out of existence. Reaper hissed angrily and whipped his head around towards her.  
She glanced at Junkrat. “I’m sorry.”  
He flicked her a smile. “Don’t be.”  
Many footsteps echoed against the walls and junker guards appeared behind them.   
Reaper pulled Symmetra in by the collar of her shirt and growled.  
“I would just toss you out that hole in the wall now, but I think the queen wants a few words first.” He looked out over the landscape and swore sharply as he saw the small figure of McCree and Roadhog start up the motorcycle; without hesitation, he released Symmetra and jumped. Symmetra sucked in air between her teeth, wincing, but there was no thud. Halfway down, his body turned to smoke and he hit the ground with a splash of vapor before reforming. She didn’t have time to worry about what happened after that, there were blades and guns pointed at her face.   
Junkrat gently took one of her hands into his. “Well, we’re fucked.”


	12. 12

“Ow!”  
“I said hold still!” Symmetra reprimanded him as she tugged the last stitch closed.   
“You also said it wouldn’t hurt!”  
“Compared to having your head nearly split open and a battle axe in the ribs, I would think the pain would be negligible.” She retorted. “There.” She used the last of her hard light energy to make a bandage that went around his forehead, covering the stitches. She worried at her lip as she looked Junkrat up and down. “I’m afraid I cannot do much about the blood loss.”  
He waved a hand uncaringly. “I’ve lost more before.”  
It didn’t soothe her worry. One side of his face and neck were covered in dried and wet blood. The wound in his side had spilled enough blood that his shorts were stained crimson on one side.   
“Did she say we had one or two days to tell her where McCree and Roadhog went?” Junkrat asked as he sat up slowly and painfully.   
“I think her exact time was ‘morning’.” Symmetra replied.  
“Ugh. Well at least we’ll be well rested for the execution.” He cackled, but at the same time he spun his necklace worriedly.   
“You should rest.” Symmetra helped pull him to the side of the cell. She sucked in a stab of pain and held it between her teeth as her cracked rib protested.   
“I look that bad, huh?” He chuckled dryly.  
“No more than usual.” She managed a smile. “Also, I am sure I look to be in a similar state as you.”  
He grinned lopsidedly and gently put a finger on the black and swollen skin around her eye. “I think the black eye suits you, makes you look tough.”  
“Ah, the characteristic I have always been missing.”   
He laughed softly. “Your jokes are getting better.”  
She leaned against the wall next to him and closed her eyes, which only made the throbbing in her head worse.   
“Sorry the mission failed.” He muttered sourly.  
“As far as I am concerned, I believe it to be successful. We successfully rescued McCree and got him out of Junkertown.”  
“As long as Reaper doesn’t catch up with them.”  
“Yes, that. We should have some faith in our companions’ abilities. In any case, our capture, while unfortunate, does not deem the mission a failure.”   
Symmetra turned her broken visor over in her hands, the shattered screen couldn’t be repaired without completely replacing the main components. “While I did not enjoy having my face kicked in, the way she got her foot up that high was impressive.” She said.   
Junkrat shifted to take the visor from her. “So, you can’t do your hardlight stuff without this right?”  
“Yes, and no.” She held up the needle she had stitched him together with. “The visor gives instructions, angles, and shows me the optimum way to place things as I make them. I had to make this needle and thread without it and look at how poorly it is made.”  
Junkrat squinted hard at the perfectly straight needle. “Looks perfect to me.”  
“To the untrained eye, maybe, but I can see the many flaws in its design.” She put the needle back down. “It is almost impossible to create anything large and of complicated parts without my visor.”  
“Like the teleporter?”  
“Unfortunately, yes. It helps me visualize where to put the connecting teleporter and the teleporter itself.”  
Junkrat nodded and then paused. “Helps?”  
“Well, yes.”  
“As in, maybe you could do it yourself?” He was starting to look interested.  
“Even if I could perform the impossible, my gauntlet is out of energy.”  
“You don’t have back ups?”  
“I did, they were taken along with my proton projector gun.” She clenched her teeth, she hated her technology being in someone else’s hands, even if they had no hope of using it. “It recharges slowly from my heartbeat, but it takes five hours to recharge to full from that alone.”  
“That’s pretty nifty.” He admired.  
She smiled and looked down at her gauntlet and the softly blinking power bar. “Yes, I suppose it is.”  
“Ok, ok.” He shifted his position so he was sitting across from Symmetra, leaning in eagerly. “Let’s say that you do get enough energy to make something. Do you have to see where you put the teleporter?”  
“How else would I be able to visualize where I am putting it?”  
He tapped her forehead. “In there! You spend a few days in the farm house, must be some part of the place you can think about.”  
Symmetra frowned as she thought. “Well, there was the part of the floor that had a particularly terrible grease stain on it when I was cleaning. I spent thirty minutes scrubbing it.”  
“Perfect! So, you can do it?” He was almost bouncing from excitement.  
Symmetra put a hand on his shoulder to still him. “Junkrat, even if those conditions were met, it had never been done, no architect has ever been able to create something so…” She waved her other hand looking for the right word. “Free-form.”   
Junkrat stilled and his eyes stopped dancing with his crazy light. He took her hand off his shoulder and her other one in his hands. “Sym.”   
Symmetra had been busy running calculations and scenarios in her head, but with the tone he used, he had her full attention. His golden eyes held her brown eyes steadily for the second time since she had met him.   
“There’s been a lot done that’s impossible in this world, dynamite, tanks, guns, airplanes…..other….stuff. Anyways, just cause it ain’t been done before, doesn’t mean ya can’t. If there’s one brain in the world that can do impossible stuff with hardlight, it’s yours. You make the smashingest things without even planning out first! Like the teacup, or my necklace. You can understand your blueprints and mine, somehow. More impressive, you know how to help my brain work, no one’s done that before.”  
Symmetra felt her heart beat rise with the temperature in her face.   
“Those other architects are all stuck in a company that’s using them, they don’t have the freedom to explore new ideas. But you, you’re free to do what you want with it!”   
He leaned forward and squeezed her hands. “I know you can.”

Symmetra couldn’t take it anymore, she threw herself forward and kissed him. At least, she was pretty sure she kissed him, having never done anything like it before she was basing the action off of movies she had seen; she wasn’t so sure teeth were supposed to be involved so much.   
She pulled herself back and blinked. His jaw was practically on the floor and it looked like his brain had tripped a breaker.   
“I am so sorry, I just, I did not, no one has ever said such nice….my apologies.” She gasped and stammered.   
Junkrat suddenly snapped out of his trance, He put his hands up on the sides of her face and grinned one of his wide, manic grins, his eyes kindled again with sparks, and he returned her kiss with as much unskilled ferocity as hers.   
The feeling was improving until one of his hands pressed against her cracked rib, Symmetra hissed and cried in pain. He scrambled backwards quickly. “Sorry, sorry!”  
She laughed, embarrassed. “No, it’s alright. I suppose we’re both a little new to this, and the injuries make a steep learning curve.”  
“Psh.” He stuck up his nose. “Speak for yourself, I’ve pashed plenty of girls.”  
She raised a disbelieving eyebrow on her uninjured eye. “Jamision.”  
“Satya.” He tried to return the look but caved. “Oh, alright, no ones ever looked twice at me! Also, I’ve been busy with my career.” He pouted.   
She scooted closer to him and kissed him gently on the lips. “Their loss.”  
He smiled brightly. “Yeah?”  
“Yes, that is why I said that.” She confirmed with an eye roll, she never understood when people did that.   
He raised a more hesitant hand and tentatively brushed the loose hairs behind her ear. “And what’s your excuse? You’re too pretty to have mine.”  
“I was in architect school for most of my life, and my line of work doesn’t leave time for forming attachments.”  
He wrinkled his nose. “Weird way of saying it.”  
“You say weird things too!” She smacked his arm.   
“Ow.”   
“Sorry! I forgot the arm they twisted.” She stroked his arm lightly.   
A soft chime sounded from her own arm and she glanced down in confusion.  
“What-?” She giggled and her ears turned a shade pinker. “It seems my heart must be beating faster than it usually does.” She turned her arm to show him the energy bar which was now at 25%.   
Junkrat grinned mischievously and leaned his head down to nuzzle her neck with the bridge of his nose. “Well, we might as well top it off, for escaping, you know.”  
She was sure the energy jumped 10% from that alone. “I suppose that is a permissible reason.” She murmured and twined her metal fingers into his.

Junkrat hurt. Everywhere. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this bashed up. He groaned and opened his eyes. Ow. His one unswollen eye looked around. Ah yes, a jail cell, they had been caught. They…..they….Sym! He sat up and immediately regretted it. He groaned and put a hand to the bandage on his side.  
“You are up.”  
Symmetra was sitting nearby, cross-legged in a meditative pose. Her glove was glowing and her hand upturned in front of the center of her chest; floating on it, changing shapes and form, was a mini teleporter.   
“Yeah, how long was I out?”  
“Two hours.”  
“Did you sleep?”   
“For an hour.”  
Junkrat felt something important tickling his memory, something nice, like a perfect grenade casing. He stared at Symmetra harder, her eyes remained closed in meditation, something about her. Then the memory flooded back in a tide of endorphins. “You kissed me!” He said much louder than intended.  
The mini-teleporter wobbled horribly and became a shapeless blob. Her eyes tightened in concentration. “I believe it was mutual so the phrase, ‘we kissed’ is more appropriate. If you do not mind, I need quiet to concentrate.”  
She sounded awfully calm and cool about the whole thing but her face was a reddish color and the teleporter in her hand was still wobbling.   
Junkrat watched her work while he picked dried blood off his face. He still couldn't believe what had happened. Sym, the prettiest, smartest, neatest person he knew, willingly kissed him, was close to him, held his hand, let him hold her. He would pinch himself but the pain of yesterday’s beating was all too real for this to be a dream.   
Symmetra moves her hands slightly. She began to very slowly weave threads of light, moving them as if she were underwater. The threads tightened and flickered and started to form a circle base. It was halfway done when the circle wobbled and then disappeared. Symmetra made a nose of annoyance in her throat and opened her eyes.   
“Still working on it?” Junkrat asked.  
“Yes, it is just as hard as I anticipated.” Her frown lightened. “But I am making some progress.”  
“Good on ya! You’ll have it in no time.”  
She realigned her pose and reopened her glove. “No promises. If you would not mind watching the door for any arriving guests?”  
He saluted and stood up to hobble to the door, his leg squeaked unpleasantly where one of the metal struts was bent. He pauses to lean over and kiss her on top of her head. She didn't say anything, only opened one eye and smiled. So it hadn’t been a wonderful delusion.   
He leaned against the door and listened while he watched her form and reform the teleporter pad, none of which connected and formed.   
She groaned and clenched her fist as yet another pad faded away. “It’s not working!”  
Junkrat tilted his head, trying to jiggle the ideas free from his muddled head.   
“Hey, did you have prints for that teacup you made?”  
She looked at him curiously. “No, I am familiar enough with a teacup.”  
“But not one that looked just like it, right?”  
“No, that was my own design.”  
“So why not do the same thing with the teleporter? Keep the bones, make the skin your own.”  
She considered it. “I suppose it is worth a try.”  
She began to weave again, this time instead of a circle, the base she was making looked more like a lotus flower. It got stronger and stronger and then flickered out. But she smiled when she opened her eyes. “I think you are onto something, it felt better, natural. I think it might actually work!”  
Junkrat’s ear twitched, someone was coming down the hallways. “That’s great! Here.” He pulled her earmuffs from around her neck and put them over her ears. “This will help you concentrate, try again.”   
She resumed her stance facing the opposite wall and started to weave.   
Junkrat looked around desperately for any sort of weapon, there was nothing in the room besides what was on them. He looked down at his bent pegleg, well, that might do. He leaned down and wrenched the weakened metal out of the joints, it might be harder to stand now, but the torn metal would make a great shiv. He leaned up next to the door and waited. It was a solid metal door with a small sliding panel at the top to see inside, perfect for ambushes.   
“All right, your times up!” The guard outside yelled as he stomped up. “Time to give up your mates or your lives.” The metal scraped as the guard pulled aside the panel. “What are you- AAARRRRGGGG!”   
Junkrat wasn’t sure what he stabbed through the panel but it must have hurt. The guard fell down in the hallways roaring in pain. Junkrat looked back over at Sym. She was peacefully weaving lines, bringing the petals of the lotus flower to life.   
“Come on, Sym.” Junkrat whispered under his breath.   
“What the fuck is going on in here?!” A new and familiar voice shouted.   
Junkrat tightened his grip on the metal, the queen herself was coming.  
“The prisoner has a weapon!” The guard whimpered.   
“Did you drongos disarm them like I said?”  
“Yeah, we have their guns.”  
“Not the guns you nuffy! I said take their arms, their literal arms!” The queen’s voice raised a decibel. “Get that door open now!”  
Junkrat acted quickly, taking the shiv, jamming it into the keyhole and breaking it off. He reached up and shut the panel for good measure.   
There was scraping on the other side.   
“What’s wrong now!?” The queen asked in a deadly voice.  
“The keyhole is jammed with something.” Someone whimpered.   
“Then take down the whole fucking door!”  
There was a rush of sounds from the other side, Junkrat braced his shoulder against the door, grimacing.   
Symmetra continued to weave calmly, the lotus flower on the floor growing brighter and clearer.   
There was a jarring impact on the door and Junkrat groaned as his already abused body felt the effects.   
Then he heard it, the click and roll of a grenade. Shit! He scrambled away from the door and tried to shield Symmetra as best he could without touching; he gritted his teeth waiting for the blast.   
Two things happened at once, Symmetra pulled her hands apart with a flourish and a beautiful blue oval appeared over the lotus flower and the door was blasted off its frame.  
“I did it!” Symmetra yelled, jumping up with excitement. “I do not believe-”  
Junkrat didn’t let her finish as he tackled her through the teleporter. Behind him, he heard shouts and running.   
They landed in a heap on the concrete floor of a familiar barn. Junkrat grabbed Symmetra and rolled them away from the teleporter. “Close it!” He roared.  
Symmetra untangled her arms and slammed her hands together, but it was too late, a junker guard came through the teleporter just before it closed. He charged at Junkrat and Symmetra with a raised club. Junkrat pulled himself protectively around Symmetra as the guard brough the club down.   
BANG! The guard looked just as confused about the bullet hole in his forehead as Junkrat did. The guard slumped to the floor with a clatter.  
“About time you showed up, the big guy here was getting antsy.” McCree drawled behind them.


	13. 13

Symmetra and Junkrat scrambled to sit upright. For the first time, they noticed McCree and Roadhog were standing a few feet away from where the teleporter had been, they both had their weapons drawn.   
McCree holstered his gun with a spin and reached down to help them up. Roadhog was already there, he picked up Junkrat in his huge hands and crushed him in a hug. “Don’t do that again.”  
Junkrat squeaked and flailed. “Ow, ow, ow, ow!”  
McCree chuckled warmly as he helped Symmetra off the floor. “He was ready to storm the whole of Junkertown by himself if you didn’t show up soon.”  
“How did you know we would come here?”  
“Saw the flickers of your teleporter all morning, just had to wait.”  
Symmetra winced as she got up. “Thank you.”  
McCree frowned and helped her over to the couch. “You two looked like you got roughed up.”  
“That is one way to put it.” Symmetra said, holding her side. “Is there still a medical pack on the ship?”  
McCree reached over to the table. “Got it right here, Darling.”   
Symmetra shook her head as he reached for her side. “It is only a cracked rib, Junkrat got the most of the injuries, they did not appreciate the actions he took to protect me. Please attend to him first.”  
McCree smiled and nodded. “Sure thing.”  
Symmetra leaned back and closed her eyes with a smile. She had done it! She still could not believe it, she had actually created a teleporter to a place she could not see without her visor to guide her, she had achieved the unthinkable.   
She opened her eyes and looked over towards where Junkrat was protesting as McCree tried to help him with his wounds. It was all thanks to him, him and his confidence in her. She could not explain where along their journey their relationship had grown to such a point, but he was….important to her. She frowned, no, she….liked him? No...something deeper and warmer. She smiled as Roadhog pinned Junkrat’s arms to his side to let McCree work. It did not matter if she could not name it now, she had time to figure it out with him.  
Junkrat caught her staring at him and stopped his struggling. He smiled brightly which crumbled immediately as McCree jabbed a medic needle into his thigh.   
Symmetra laughed quietly as Junkrat rattled off a slew of expletives at the cowboy who chuckled as he worked.One thing she was sure of, she wanted him around her more. 

Junkrat groaned and sat gently on the couch next to Symmetra. “Those needles almost hurt worse than the beatings!”  
Symmetra held a medicated ice pack to her blackeye, she could already feel the swelling abating. “I’m sure you are exaggerating.”   
Junkrat stuck out a lip. “Yeah, but he didn’t have to take so much pleasure from it.”  
Symmetra patted his leg soothingly and he turned to her with a smile. “You feeling alright?”  
“Better, especially after I found my back-up visor.” She shifted her posture to put her other hand to her ribs. “I think the rib is starting to knit itself together. Doctor Zeigler really did the medical community a service with her work.”  
“Yeah, look, I can do this already!” Junkrat started to throw his arm around her and winced and stopped. Symmetra took his hand in hers and gently brought his arm around her shoulders. He looked both surprised and pleased as she leaned against his side. She closed her eyes and relaxed against him, for some reason, the smell of sweat and gunpowder wasn’t as abhorrent these days.   
“Thank you.” She whispered.  
“For what? You saved our asses.”  
“You believed in me, gave me the motivation to push through barriers. I would not have been able to do it without you. You also stayed with me and got captured when you could have escaped.”  
“Wasn’t gonna leave you alone there.” Junkrat muttered darkly. “They aren’t the nicest people.”   
Symmetra rested her head against his chest, his heartbeat was a comforting pulse.   
Junkrat ran his metal fingers through her hair, only briefly getting the joints caught in the strands before shaking them loose with a curse. Symmetra grimaced a little as he tugged his hand free then smiled to herself, he was new to this.   
“Thanks.” He said after a moment.  
“For?”  
“Accepting me.” He sounded unusually serious. “People usually write me off as crazy, unhinged, manic.”  
“You are not?”   
He flicked her ear and she chuckled. “Sure sometimes, but not always.” He ran his fingers over her cheek leaving a blush in their wake. “Not with you.”   
Symmetra smiled. “I think we actually work well together.”  
“Yeah! Like a…..”  
“Firework.” Symmetra said. “A perfect blend of gunpowder, chaos, design and beauty.”  
“Nice! I like it.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead.  
“Am I interrupting?” Roadhog dropped a crate next to them with a bang. They both jumped but Junkrat didn’t take his arm from around her.   
“Obviously you are, dipstick.”  
“If you feel good enough to pash, you feel good enough to load the bloody ship.”   
Junkrat got up with much complaining and groaning. “Cockblocker.” He muttered at Roadhog as he picked him a much smaller crate to load. He walked away with an exaggerated limp, the missing support in his leg wasn’t helping.   
Roadhog turned his mask to Symmetra and stared at her silently.  
She cleared her throat. “Did you need my assistance as well?”  
“Yeah.”   
She stood up and started reaching for a crate but Roadhog stopped her. “Need you to set up some turrets and defenses.”  
“Oh! Yes, I can do that.” She started to weave and cast her small white turrets around the doorways.   
Roadhog continued loading after another long awkward moment of silent staring. “Just remember, he’s an idiot.”  
“Hm?”  
He walked by without looking at her. “A loveable one, but always an idiot.”  
She smiled as he walked out, somehow she knew that meant he was happy.

A few minutes later, McCree picked up a box near where she was working. He squinted at her and frowned. “What kind of torture did they do to you to leave that!” He pointed to her neck.  
She put a finger to her neck, confused.  
He stepped closer. “Looks like some sort of huge bruise.”   
Symmetra suddenly remembered Junkrat’s mouth being in that area for an extended period of time last night. Her whole neck and head flushed scarlet. “It was a rather severe and sudden beating, I do not recall exactly.”  
McCree scratched at his beard. “Strange, I could have sworn there was a similar one on Junkrat’s neck.”   
Symmetra swayed from the lightheadedness she suddenly felt, she desperately hoped the floor would cave in and swallow her.   
“Quit your teasing, she’s about to faint.” Roadhog grunted from the doorway.   
McCree laughed and winked at her as he picked up a crate.   
Symmetra was saved from any further comments as a loud thud came from outside.   
Junkrat ran through the door and slammed it behind him. “We’ve got a problem!”  
A rattle of bullets shot through the old wooden wall. McCree grabbed Symmetra and dove to the ground. “Hit the deck!”  
The hail of bullets cut a jagged line horizontally through the barn while they all flattened themselves on the floor.   
The bullets stopped and there was a tense quiet.   
“You didn’t forget about me, did you?” A harsh voice asked from behind them.   
They all turned. Reaper was standing behind where Symmetra and McCree were, two shotguns in his hands. There was a crash from the front and the door splintered open. The huge spherical mech that Symmetra had noticed at the scrapyard was standing there with two miniguns trained on them, next to him were three other junker guards.   
“Wrecking ball, ship’s out back, shut it down.” Reaper ordered  
McCree tensed. “Wrecking ball?” He whispered. He lifted his head as the mech rolled by them. “Hammond!”  
The mech paused for a moment, and rolled to look in their direction.  
“I-” McCree started, but Reaper pistol whipped him in the jaw. “Gah!” McCree gritted his teeth against the pain. Wrecking ball, rolled out the back door to the ship.   
“Shut it, Jesse.” Reaper growled. “Should have left you in the streets where I found you.”   
Junkrat stiffened perceptibly and his eyes glowed dangerously.   
McCree spit out some blood and moved to his knees. “Should have left you for dead back in Rialto.” He drawled coldly. “If only I knew back then the monster you would become.”  
“Sticks and stones.” Reaper shrugged.   
They all heard the whine of the ship engine shutting down. Reaper waved Roadhog over to stand next to Junkrat, he didn’t move.  
Reaper pointed a shotgun at Symmetra. “I’m not in a mood to negotiate, pig.”  
“Say bacon one more time.” Roadhog growled.   
Reaper tilted his head. “I didn’t say-”  
Something metal blurred and hit Reaper from behind. “Ugh!” Reaper’s face hit the concrete floor, shattering part of his mask. The object shot out a line which attached to the rafters and it swung up in the air.   
“Is that-?” Symmetra gasped   
“Dropping!” Wrecking Ball spun in the air and slammed down on the Junkertown guards with an earth-shaking slam.   
McCree whipped out his pistol and watched as the guards were lifted into the air in almost slow motion. His eyes glinted as he lifted the muzzle. “It’s high noon.” Quicker than anyone’s eye could see, he rattled off three shots. Three guards dropped dead to the floor with bullets between their eyes.   
“It’s only ten thirty.” Symmetra corrected from her position on the floor.  
McCree ignored her as he turned his pistol towards Reaper. Reaper wasn’t there anymore.   
Symmetra felt something cold pass by her and black tendrils curled on the floor.   
“Death walks among you.” Reaper rematerialized on the other side of her, one shotgun pointed at her head the other at Wrecking Ball. Symmetra didn’t even think, she interlaced her fingers and then threw open her hands. “Reality bends to my will!”   
Reaper’s shotgun blasted off, inches from her face and hit a shimmering blue wall that materialized between them. Symmetra jumped a step backwards as she saw Junkrat throw something from his side of the room.   
“Fire in the hole!”  
She ducked just as a spinning concussion mine flew between them. Junkrat clicked his detinator. It had been thrown in such a way that the base was facing Symmetra’s wall, for minimal damage and the top faced Reaper for maximum explosion.   
BOOM! The blast knocked Reaper out of the room and into the yard.   
“Why so serious!” Yelled Junkrat with a cackle.   
Reaper turned half to vapor as he groaned.   
“This isn’t the end, Jesse.” He turned completely to vapor and disappeared.   
They all stood still for a moment, recuperating from the adrenaline pumping through their veins.  
“Nice save there, Hammond.” McCree drawled as he put away his gun.   
The mech popped out spider-like legs and skittered around to look at them.   
“What made you change your mind?” Symmetra asked the mech.  
The mech skittered over to her and then with a click and hiss, a hatch opened in the top. Out popped the biggest, fuzziest hamster she had ever seen. In his hands was a photo from the ship’s dash of the old Overwatch team.   
The hamster squeaked several times and the mech’s robotic voice translated. “Winston is an old friend.”  
The hamster turned to McCree. “You know who I am?”  
McCree pushed back his hat with a thumb. “Winston sent me out here to find you and bring you back to work with him. Says he needs your astro-engineering skills.”  
Hammond considered this, his beady black eyes narrowed in concentration. “I get to see Winston again?”  
“Everyday.” McCree promised.   
“These terms are acceptable.”  
“What the hell? What kinda joke is this!?” Junkrat had spent the past minute in dumbstruck surprise and had just found his voice. He poked Hammond with a finger. “This is a bloody mouse!”   
Hammon squeaked angrily and nipped at his finger. “I’m a hamster, you profanity filter enabled! Your face is a joke.”  
Roadhog laughed. “Can’t argue with that.”  
Hammond saluted McCree. “I’ll get the ship going. There are reinforcements of the rest of the queen’s army on their way. I was the vanguard because I’m special.” He shot Junkrat a smug look.   
“How many?” McCree asked.   
“Twenty vehicles. They will be here in five minutes, it will take ten to warm up the ship properly.”  
The hamster rolled away to the ship, the rest followed him into the ship with concerned looks. Hammond rolled up to the controls and popped out of the mech. In a brown, fuzzy flash he dashed around the controls, flipping and pressing and tweaking the ship to life.   
“The Junkers will have nuked this place by the time we’re ready to go.” Junkrat fiddled with his necklace nervously. “Twenty vehicles means around forty junkers on a bad day.”  
“What do we do? We can fight or run.” McCree asked.  
“Both.” Roadhog said from the back of the group.   
“What do you mean, both?” Symmetra asked.  
Roadhog walked back down the gangplank. “You run, I fight.”


	14. 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, get out the tissues if you cry easily.

Junkrat limped down the gangplank as fast as he could after Roadhog. “What do you mean?! If you fight we all stay and fight with you!”  
Roadhog was in the barn looking through the rest of the crates they hadn’t packed. “Where are your explosives.”  
“Red crate. But you can’t face all those alone and survive!”  
Roadhog took the red crate and placed it in the side car of the motorcycle. “Nope.”  
Junkrat stood with his mouth hanging open. “What? You going suicidal on me?! That’s my job!”  
Roadhog held out a hand. “Detinator.”  
“No!” Junkrat took his dentinator off his belt and held it to his chest. Roadhog walked over, grabbed Junkrat’s hand and forced it open, delicately plucking out the tool.   
Symmetra arrived at the door, looking from one to the other in concern.   
Junkrat grit his teeth angrily. “I won’t let you do this!”  
“Can’t stop me.” Roadhog grunted. “You’re too scrawny.”  
Junkrat jumped on Roadhog’s turned back and tried to get his arm around the much larger neck. Roadhog reached up and took him off as if he were a child. “Cut it out, Junk.”  
There were angry tears in Junkrat’s eyes. “Why?!”  
Roadhog sighed. “I’ve only got six months left tops.”  
Junkrat felt his heart stop a moment. “What?”  
“That’s what the Overwatch doc told me.” Roadhog took the top off the crate and checked the explosives. “Too much radiation, too much Australia in me.” Roadhog grunted. “Should have stuck to New Zealand.”   
New tears ran down Junkrat’s face, he didn’t try to stop them. Yet another person in his life, lost to the damn radiation, it would never stop, it never stopped, it took everything, everything, gone, gone gone gone gone! He crouched down and covered his ears with his hands, hyperventilating.   
“Jamision!” Symmetra was on her knees in front of him, pulling his hands into hers. Roadhog crouched down next to them and put a hand on her shoulder. “Give me a minute with him, Sym.”   
She looked up at him, tears also in her eyes. “I was just starting to know you.”  
He chuckled quietly. “You know all you need to, I’m a grumpy old man who’s lived too long for his own good.” He handed her a small satchel. “Take this back for me.”   
Symmetra stood up and took it, then threw her arms around his neck. “I am sorry.” She said in a quavering voice.   
“We all are.” Roadhog patted her head. “Get going.”  
Junkrat heard the back door close as she left. Roadhog took his head in one huge hand and forced him to look up. Junkrat couldn’t concentrate, the buzz was too loud to hear or see anything. And then Roadhog took his other hand and took off his mask, the buzz instantly stopped.   
He didn’t look that unusual, just like a tired, scarred, old man who had seen too much life, death and long roads and who wanted just one more of each. “Jamie.” Roadhog said quietly. His voice was deep and gravelly and undistorted from his mask filter. “You gotta let me go.”   
“I can’t.” Junkrat sniffed. “I can’t, I can’t can’t can’t-”  
Roadhog put a huge hand over his mouth. “This is life, kid. You got life left in those scrawny bones, mine are all tapped out.”   
“I don’t want to lose you too.” Junkrat heaved a sob, all pretenses of control and maturity gone. He felt like a little kid again, watching his parents die.   
Roadhog brought him into a hug that engulfed his body. “I know. It’s rough. Glad we got some fun times in together. I’ll miss you, kid.”  
Roadhog let him go and stood up. “She’ll be right.”   
Junkrat stood up with a loud sniff. “Wanker.”  
“Nuffy.”  
Junkrat laughed tearily. “Fuck off, old man.”  
Roadhog tapped him gently on the chin with his brass knuckled fist. “I’ve killed for less than that.” He chuckled.  
Junkrat took the detonator and pointed to two buttons. “This one arms them, this one makes the boom.” He handed it back. “Give ‘em hell.”  
“I’ll send them straight there.”  
Junkrat took a step back, giving his friend a last long look.   
“Do me a favor. Don’t fuck it up with Sym. She’s the best thing you’ll find, also the only woman on the planet willing to kiss your ugly mess.”  
“Shut up!” Junkrat curled his lip in an exaggerated pout. “Yeah, I won’t, promise.”   
“If you ever make a little runt, Mako’s a good name.”  
Roadhog turned the motorbike on and took his seat. “Roadhog, rides again.” And with a last salute, he kicked it into gear and drove out of the barn and into the Australian sun.   
Junkrat swallowed another sob and limped back to the ship.   
Symmetra and McCree were waiting for him.   
McCree looked over his shoulder at the dust trail left by the bike. “He gone?”  
“Yeah.”   
McCree nodded solemnly. There were things veterans of war understood all too well, he didn’t say any more.   
Symmetra put a hand on his shoulder. “It is what he would want, I believe.”  
Junkrat wiped his nose and nodded. “Can’t see him waiting to die on a bed somewhere, he’d rather go out with a bang.” He laughed and coughed. “I can respect that.”  
“Ship ready in five minutes.” Hammond said from the front.   
McCree was leaning against the entranceway, looking out over the area. “Here they come.”   
They saw the far away line of junker vehicles leaving dust in their wake as they came towards them, and the lone bike headed out.   
From this distance they couldn’t see much, but they could see an old soldier swinging a hook around with one hand and a scrap gun mounted on the handlebars with the other.   
They met with a clash of dust and metal and explosions. Roadhog seemed to have hooked one vehicle and was pulling it another one. The cars tumbled together as he released the hook and aimed his scrap gun at another. Chaos and death followed wherever he went.   
“He truly is a one man apocalypse.” Symmetra said admiringly.   
Shortly afterwards, there was a huge explosion that rattled the ship even at this distance. An enormous plume of fire, smoke and dust rose in the distance, no cars emerged from it.   
Junkrat took a shuddering breath. “Bombs away.”  
McCree clapped him on the shoulder. “He’s buying us enough time to get away. We shouldn’t waste it.” 

Junkrat didn’t say a word the whole trip back, the place was eerily quiet without his cackling and constant conversation. McCree sat in the pilot seat while Hammon skittered around the controls, quietly conversing about Overwatch and Horizon Lunar Colony. Ever the gentleman, McCree seemed to know when to give space.   
Symmetra sat next to Junkrat on the table bench, holding his hand in hers. Eventually exhaustion won her over and she fell asleep nestled in his side, head on his shoulder. Junkrat sat still, staring ahead, no movement except for his fingers twirling his necklace.   
He must have passed out at some point because he woke up when the ship landed with a small bump.  
“We’re home, kids.” McCree stretched his arms as he walked to the gangplank controls. “We should go report.”  
They all stood slowly and stiffly as the gangplank lowered.  
McCree took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know about the rest of you but I needed a shower yester- OOOF!”   
Something white and gold whizzed up the gangplank and flew into McCree.  
McCree stumbled backwards and found himself holding Dr. Ziegler. “Angela?”  
Angela hugged him tightly around the neck. “Jesse, you idiot! Do you know how worried we were?!”  
“I guess not, sor-“  
Angela didn’t let him finish before grabbing his face and kissing him.  
McCree, for once, looked lost and stunned.  
She released him after a moment, her arms still around him.  
“I, um, I’m starting to see how much.” McCree cleared his throat and laced his fingers around her waist.  
He suddenly remembered the rest of the ship. Symmetra and Junkrat were wearing identical smirks.  
McCree pulled a serious face. “I believe I told you two to go report. Hammond you too, Winston’s waiting.”   
They left with all the speed of an injured sloth.  
“I said clear out!” McCree gave the slowly moving mech a kick to get it rolling down the ramp, which he then quickly closed.  
(A.N. That’s just for you, Sister)

“I see.” Winston sighed and took off his glasses. “I am sorry to hear of Roadhog’s passing. He will be honored as a fallen member of Overwatch.” He said to Junkrat.   
They were in Winston’s lab, just having given their report. Hammond was sitting on Winston’s wide shoulder like he lived there now and never intended to move.   
“I believe Reaper will be more motivated to attack Overwatch now.” Symmetra said.  
“Oh, I don’t think he could be more motivated than he already was.” Winston assured her.   
“You all have done a great job, you deserve some rest and recuperation. Be sure to see Dr. Ziegler tomorrow for a post-mission check up.”  
He paused and looked around. “Is McCree going to report?”  
Symmetra hid a smile. “I believe he went straight to his medical exam.”  
Junkrat snickered.  
“Ah, I’ll have him come in later then, his health is important.  
He saluted them. “Dismissed.”   
He got off his stool and walked over to the mech with Hammond. “Now, let’s see this mech of yours.”

Junkrat sat on his workbench stool, trying to get two wires to mesh, it wasn’t working. It had been two days since they had returned and he had felt more off than usual. Maybe not more, just different off. The buzzing was gone, replaced by echoing silence ringing in his ears.   
The picture in the main hangar on the wall of the fallen wasn’t a great one of Roadhog, it was basically his mug shot with the placard cropped off. Roadhog would’ve thought it was funny. Symmetra had pinned the picture she had retrieved from Roadhog’s satchel on Junkrat’s wall. It was weird seeing Roadhog young and happy and with a family.   
“There!” Symmetra said behind him.  
He swiveled in his seat to look. She had placed a small shelf on the wall that connected their stations. On it, hovering on a floating disk was one of Roadhog’s old gas canisters, flickering out of the hole in holographic orange, were flames.  
“I thought it would be a more appropriate memorial to him.” She said, looking nervously at him for approval.   
“I like it.” Junkrat smiled fondly at her. Whenever he was with her, the cold feelings ebbed. He breathed deeply and sat up straight.   
She dusted her hands off. “And it is perfectly centered on the line dividing the workshop.”  
Junkrat looked down at the clean white line they had put between their stations long ago.   
She narrowed her eyes. “Do not even think about messing with that line.”  
Junkrat felt the exciting tension that came with the urge to break rules. “Well, I wasn’t gunna, but now that you mention it….”  
He stood up with a swing of his pegleg. “It just seems too clean and perfect and smudge-free.”  
Symmetra pulled weaving threads out of her glove warningly. “And it will stay that way, or else.”  
Junkrat walked up, carefully and purposefully placed the toe of his boot on the line and drew a nice black line across it. “Or what?”  
Symmetra moved in a blur. The threads of line lashed out and around his wrists, yanking them together in front of him. She then threw them up at the ceiling where they wound around a pulley system attached to the rafters. Before he could take a step, she yanked on the rope and hoisted him up till his feet were just off the ground. He flailed his foot wildly, missing the concrete by a centimeter.   
Symmetra crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Or that.”  
Junkrat huffed and strained, but he was stuck. “Good one, you can let me down now.”  
She ran a finger along his protruding ribs. “But there’s no one to bother us now.”  
Junkrat stilled as his heart hammered. His eyes widened. ‘Um, Sym? You aren’t gonna…”  
She leaned in closer and then stepped back, pulling her photon projector from behind her back. “I’ve had to wait too long for this, you always had that body guard with you, and now…” A huge ball of energy grew in the gun’s claws, Junkrat could feel the heat on his stomach as she held it close. “You’re mine!” Her eyes narrowed into slits and grinned maliciously.  
“Um, Sym. wait, wait wait. Don’t, hang on! What are you-? Help!”  
She shook her head as she advanced. “No one to help you now!”  
“Ahhhhhhh!” He tried to pull himself up by his arms and out of her reach but she reached out and grabbed his pegleg and kept him down.   
“Sym!”  
She drew back her projector, reached out with her hand and poked him in the stomach. “Gotcha!”   
She powered down her gun and placed it back on the table.   
Junkrat’s heart was still hammering around his chest, his breathing rapid. “What?”  
She dissolved the threads, he dropped and stumbled. “I was attempting to do a practical joke. Tracer told me about them, I thought you might like it.” She bit her lip. “I fear I might have taken it too far for your comfort.”  
Junkrat stared at her agape. “You…..practical joke?”  
“Sorry.” She apologized with a small bow. “It was not to your liking.”  
Junkrat jumped up, picked her up and twirled her around laughing and giggling. “That was the best ever! You were perfect! Shit, I thought you were going to kill me!” He placed her back on the floor with a chuckle. “You’re perfect.”  
She blushed and smiled up at him. “Not always.”  
He rubbed his nose against hers. “That’s what makes you perfect, for me.”  
He leaned down and gently kissed her, holding her face in his rough hand. He felt her smooth hand wrap around his fingers.   
He pulled back to see her face, rubbing his calloused thumb across her cheek. “I love you, Satya.”  
Symmetra looked taken aback but recovered and smiled softly. “I too, have feelings of a similar level of attachment to you, Jamison.”  
Junkrat paused, tilted his head and stuck his lip to the side in a comical, confused look.  
Symmtra laughed and wrapped her hands around his thin body. “I love you too.”  
Junkrat buried his face in her hair with a smile, holding her close. “Oh, well, why didn’t you just say so?”


	15. Epilogue

The hot sun beat down on Junkrat as he walked through the base, checking his crate.  
“Springs, heater coil, titanium clamps. Pretty sure that’s all I was supposed to get.” He paused, thought hard and smacked himself with his hand. “Milk! I always forget the milk!”  
Someone giggled to his right. He raised up on tiptoes to look over the containers piled next to the path. A very familiar tuft of black hair was sticking up from behind them.  
Junkrat grinned, put down the crate and sneaked around behind. “Gotcha!”  
He lifted the laughing and wiggling boy up and onto his shoulders. “Why ya hiding, Mate?”  
A can of spray paint fell out of the boy’s pocket and hit the ground. Junkrat leaned over and examined it.“Ah, what you been decorating, little man?”  
The boy giggled and wrapped his arms around his father’s head. “It’s a surprise.”  
“Oh?”  
The boy nodded. “I think Mommy will find it soon.”  
“MAKO FAWKES!” an angry voice echoed around the base.  
Junkrat winced. “You’re in trouble.”  
Symmetra came running around the corner, skidding to a halt when she caught sight of them. Her hair was flying around her face and her eyes flashed; she looked unnervingly like one of the goddesses in her mythology book.  
“Oh boy.” Junkrat muttered. “Hey, luv.” He waved.  
Symmetra stalked up to them. “Do you know what your son has done?!”  
Junkrat held up the spray paint. “Something to do with this?”  
Symmetra pulled his arm and half dragged them around the bend in the direction of the workshop. “That!”  
Covering the front of their joint workshop was a spray paint mural of fire, lilies and hexagons.  
Junkrat whistled. “That must have taken a lot of cans.”  
“Fifteen.” Mako grinned.  
Junkrat put a calming arm around his wife’s waist. “You have to admire, kid’s got talent.”  
Symmetra breathed in a deep breath and did her counting calming ritual. “Yes, It is an exemplary example of the genre but this is Overwatch property, not the skatepark!”  
Junkrat kissed her forehead. “Well, if the old monkey’s got a problem with it, Mako and Daddy will have a nice playdate painting it over. But in the meantime, let’s just enjoy it.”  
Symmetra huffed, smiled at her husband and gave her son a warning look. Mako grinned and hunched down to hide in his father’s hair.  
“Your control of the geometric lines are to be commended.” Symmetra said after studying it for a while.  
“I used a guide I made during hardlight practice.” Mako said proudly. “And I also made this!” He proudly held up a figurine of Reaper. “When you push this button in the back…” He pushed the button and the head flew off.  
Symmetra shook her head and gave Junkrat a look. “There is too much of you in our son.”  
Junkrat hugged her close, resting his chin on her head and smiled up at Mako who was leaning over his shoulder. “Naw, there’s just enough of us in the little firework.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knew when I wrote this story it wouldn’t get as much foot traffic, but if you are reading this it means that you read the whole thing, thank you! Symmetra has always been my favorite character and I really wanted to write a SymRat story. I apologize to anyone with autism who reads this, I have no experience with it and am unable to properly write that part of her canon character. Also to any Australians, I tried to fit as much vernacular as I could in, but I’m sure it’s mostly American sounding, sorry.  
> If you finished it, drop a comment of what you loved, liked, thought was ok enough (Comments are an author’s lifeblood, always comment on stories you read)  
> Thank you to my sister Lumos-seeker who was my beta reader and idea generator and all around amazing reader, you are the lumos in mintlumos.  
> Thank you all!


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